Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Stay Young / When I'm 64
I'm a bit worried that as a former surfer of the wave that crashes hard against the cutting edge, that I'm losing it a bit. I mean, the simple fact is that I just don't have time to listen to as much new music as I used to. Looking back to my glory days from 6th form through University, there were hours and hours of every day and night that were packed with listening to records, playing records to other people, looking for records and listening to other people play records. I was always striving for the new, the exciting, the weird.
But, to quote Pulp, something changed. The world of work now dominates my day. But more than that... It's almost like, when you're young, you've got a blank slate. Everything is new and exciting, you've got an empty perspective to fill with fresh experiences and new sounds. But now... 10 years into a musical obsession that's dominated my whole existence, it's getting pretty cluttered in this little brain of mine (and, in a more literal sense, in my bedroom). My musical landscape is populated by thousands of lyrics, hundreds of acts and genres overlapping like dialects. Like any addict, I still search for that hit that feels as good as the first one, but I'm carrying more baggage. I feel the kind of loyalty to bands of old that I used to mock in Echo and the Bunnymen and Smiths fans when i was 15. Now I understand. And I'm now a dedicated fan of both. As my musical horizons have widened, my ability to keep abreast of everything NOW has waned.
Anyway, I'm not too concerned. I'm not buying Dido records or watching X Factor just yet. It's just that I'm beginning to feel my grip on pop culture loosen just a little. And I'm aware that eventually I'm gonna have to let go completely. Cos there's something a little...creepy about the older man obsessing about bands 10-20 years his junior. I'm aiming for the subtle cool dad route, where in 15 years time I'll walk into little Johnny's room, and hear some racket that sounds just like.. I dunno... Nirvana, say, and I'll see the excitement in his eyes. And I'll wink at him knowingly, both allowing his innocent and naive passion room to thrive, but also suggesting that there might be something more out there. And just like with my Dad, I'll let him go through my CD collection and discover and whole bigger world of wonder out there waiting for him. Just so long as he doesn't scratch them.
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