Friday, August 4, 2017
Rock is dead
It happened quick. I don't know when. But I was at the front desk of the library I work at. I helped a father. He had two kids. The cute 3-year old boy was wearing a Who t-shirt. The Who, as you know, were a great and wild band who nihilistically smashed their instruments at the end of concerts.
They make Who t-shirts for toddlers: Hope I die before I get old.
It might have been right then, at that moment. Who knows about these things.
Later though I was in a suburban mall, which is where I go these days to write blog posts so good that there are only eleven of you in the world equipped to suspect that this... is... not... normal, and in a Juniors section of a department store there was a whole broad selection of really nice rock t-shirts; Tupac, Beatles, Doors, Talking Heads, Bob Marley, The Jam, and The Grateful Dead. Wow! These were nice! Really nice.
Rock is dead.
I know what you're thinking:
Rock is always rebellion that morphs slowly into commodification. But Rock, young, wild, surprising Rock, ever emerges in new and dangerous forms.
Yeah. It used to be like that. But not anymore. Let it go. Rock is dead. It's better to burn out, than to fade away.