If you don't like it you're too young, or the ballad of the aging rock fan

The Minutemen: real punks

I spent half-a-decade on a music forum for the fans of a semi-reclusive 80s "cult" icon. I left about the time I started this blog, but I still read it because it's one of the few music blogs where the commentariat skews 35-and-up; however, every once and a while someone posts a long-winded screed on how "music just ain't the same anymore" since Gaga, Bieber, Coldplay, Beyonce, etc. sullied this whole thing up.

Please let me never become that fan. Please don't let ramble incoherently about how music "these days" is less organic, less "real" than in mine, and "these kids" listening to "this music" don't know a thing about "good music." I probably already do that, but at least I'm not so old that I don't recognize the signs.

The truth? I'm well into my thirties and most days I'd rather not listen to music made by twenty-year-olds. I think that's... okay. Healthy, even. But vilifying and entire generation or genre of music, and it's fans, isn't.  And it's impossible to deny the message here: pop isn't real music. Pop music is commerce; it's disposable, ephemeral. "Real" music (that which isn't "pop" music) is raw, organic, unconcerned with image. I used to grind my teeth each time this tired old trope was rehashed. The intrinsic sexism is hard to miss, though often conveniently ignored, when you consider that pop music is thought of as the domain of women and girls, and rock music is white-guy-plus-guitar. Look at any critic's list and see who gets the accolades.