Monday, August 21, 2006

Aging Out


Just got an e-mail from a rock writer pal who was responding to birthday wishes. Along with everything else he wrote:

Thanks man. Yeah, I guess I'm older -- I used to love the Dead Boys, now I can barely listen to 'em (blasphemy, I know) unless I'm in the right mood. Just not that pissed off anymore.

I then went on a ‘deep thoughts’ exposition, and, just in case it’s actually entertaining to some of you, I’ll share:

When I play a punk (or any really, really aggressive) tune, I still get carried off, intense, and flooded with (often smug-flavored) testosterone.

Notwithstanding my ability to froth, sneer and revel at my advanced vintage, I really believe that there are types of music that along with everything else they do, appeal to, or trigger something in people of an age where hormones are still raging, or at least flowing down the rapids in plentiful supply... which biologicaly links with another theory, one generational, that may have been explored by bigger thinkers, and better writers than I, but since they didn't do so on THIS blog:

When you're flat out unhappy with yourself about something, you are most likely to be in your worst mood, and meanest to those who care about you, aka those with whom you can GET AWAY WITH NASTY SHIT most easily. Point here, is that many to most young people while certainly formed enough to be aware of it, are still not yet certain of the security of their present or future. Frustrated by not already knowing they want to be doctors or lawyers, or worse, WANTING to be something that they are, at this point, uncertain they'll be able to accomplish becoming, trading almost exclusively in futures, which are, by definition very uncertain, these younguns dwell in extremely unsettling territory on pretty much a 24/7 basis.

Angry, aggressive music provides a very real way to channel a lot of frustration and anger, a profound need filler for people who are at a time of their life where those emotions are inherently going to be in abundance. This then, would also help to explain the incendiary appeal of Gangsta and the popularity of thrashing along to Metal.
So while we always hate to experience the passing of our youth, this is one where I think it not only a cultural passing, but also a physiological one, an actual flow of the chronological fabric of our lives... one, of course, that takes a while to define itself. After all, it's been suggested my generation of males rejects the idea of aging past 19 well into our 30s. I suspect I carried some of that notion past 40, and am currently thinking about how I've managed to come to this point where I feel like a much less flexible but really spry 50 something.

But 50 is NOT the new 30, unless you're a 30 year old chronically experiencing the morning after spending the day carrying around your car on your back. But otherwise... Kick Out the Jams, Motherfuckers!!

Speaking of Dead Boys: I have a friend who went back to his school as a guest Prof., probably going bacj 15 years or so, who decided to be edgy and cool and impress his students by referencing one Jello Biafra. He was met with dead stares causing his hair to come out in clumps and a serious craving for an Early Bird Special Liver and Onions with applesauce. The interesting thing is that this anecdote is probably being met by the blog-reading equivalent of a dead stare by many of you right now. Well you’re on the internet, right? Google ‘Dead Kennedys’ K?

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home