It Was 20 Years Ago....

Eddie Vedder, grunge's poster boy, in 1992.
Girls loved him, guys wanted to be him. 

When I heard that Pearl Jam was celebrating their 20th anniversary this month, one of the first things that popped into my head was, "It was 20 years ago today, when Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play." Which really shows you how old I am.

I remember back in 1987, all the music critics were frothing at the mouth over the 20th anniversary of The Beatles' classic album, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. The DJs, VJs, and various talking heads played that snippet of the song--"It was 20 years ago today, when Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play."--over and over (and over again).

In 1987, I remember thinking that 1967 seemed like a million, billion years ago--a time of flower people, free love, and chicks with hairy legs (versus my 80's world of Wall Street, neon, and big hair).

Not surprisingly, 1991 doesn't seem like THAT long ago. After all, I was already an adult twenty years ago. Going from being a young adult to an older one isn't nearly so monumental as going from being not born yet to a teenager. Youth warps one's sense of time--while you are growing up, it seems to be taking so damned long that even five years feels like an eternity, let alone twenty.

Yet my adulthood is speeding by--imagine that.

So I was blown away when I realized an entire two decades has passed since Pearl Jam and Nirvana (not to mention Soundgarden, Nine Inch Nails, Jane's Addiction, and Alice in Chains) broke out and changed the landscape of rock 'n' roll forever. These awesome bands also convinced us to replace our boxy, Stop Making Sense-ian, shoulder-padded blazers and high-waisted designer jeans with plaid flannel shirts and ripped Levi's.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

What I Miss Most About the 1990s Is....

There's an article in tomorrow's (8/7/11) The New York Times Magazine titled, "My So-Called Adulthood" about how Generation X--like every other generation before it--has become nostalgic for all things 1990s (the era of its youth), despite the fact that Gen X was famous for reviling the nostalgia it grew up with: the Baby Boomers fondness for all things 1960s.

Here is the link to the article.

The author Carl Wilson wonders how our generation can proudly embrace retromania when we grew up listening to the Baby Boomers talk about how great the 60s were: how their generation created the best music, ended segregation, were activists, and truly "believed in something, man." Back in the early 90s, didn't we hate the way they always reminisced about the good ol' days, then called us slackers and pointed out that by the time they were our age, they'd already marched on Washington five times and been thrown in jail for protesting something-or-another? They even insisted their drugs were better.

Yay! Beavis and Butthead are
coming back!

And now here we are, 20 years later, in the midst of a 1990s revival. Limp Bizkit, Faith No More, and Third Eye Blind (just to name a few) are touring this summer, plus MTV is bringing back some of its old programming, like "Beavis and Butthead" and "Pop-Up Video." It makes me laugh because we slackers are now the demo with the disposable income. HA! You love us now, don't you?

Mr. Wilson asks the following question in the article: "How does an anti-nostalgic generation deal with the human reflex to sentimentalize its youth?" Of course when I read that sentence, the only thing that popped into my head was, "The reflex...is in charge of finding treasure in the daaaark!"

Right Said Fred: Amusing
yet oh so embarrassing

The answer, according to Mr. Wilson, is mix-tapes. Apparently, some young musicians are creating music called "hypnagogic" or "hauntological" (I swear, I'm not making this up), with melodies that sound like pop songs from previous decades, but recorded to simulate old age by sounding fuzzy or staticky. And many of the artists are recording this music on the practically-extinct cassette tape. (I bet they are really proud of themselves, too).

I have a better idea: How about we Gen Xers join Facebook, post the original videos of all our favorite 80s and 90s songs, share comments about what that song means to each of us, and have fun honestly reminiscing about the good (e.g. Nirvana) and the bad (e.g. Right Said Fred) that our generation had to offer?

Oh, duh.

I'm Still Alive...Just Breathe

One day last week I was in my car listening to our excellent local, independent radio station (shout out to 107.1 The Peak!) when Pearl Jam’s newish song, “Just Breathe” came on. Listening to this pretty song got me thinking about Pearl Jam’s impressive catalogue of songs and their longevity--I (and my fellow Gen Xers) practically grew up on them. 

Despite this, the rock band that has come to define Gen X is Nirvana; along with a handful of other Seattle bands (Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Mudhoney to name a few), they ushered in the Grunge era and gave voice to the alienation and insecurity of their generation. Nirvana’s music and lyrics certainly did capture the “what the hell am I doing with my life” feeling most of us had in the early 90s, but I have to argue that, because Kurt Cobain killed himself in 1994 (when he was only 27), thus ending Nirvana’s reign as the voice of Gen X, they shouldn’t be our defining rock band. Because, unlike the rest of us, Nirvana never had to grow up. Sure, Dave G. and Krist N. have aged, moved on, and even started families, but that doesn't count, because we didn't get to see how Nirvana would’ve handled the death of Grunge, Napster, ITunes, or the rise of the horrendous boy band era. Kurt Cobain never had to cope with turning forty. I wonder, if he was still alive, if his daughter Frances Bean would hate him, too.

To me, the band that best defines Gen X is Pearl Jam. Though Eddie Vedder wasn’t as tortured as Kurt Cobain, both bands were Grunge, both came out of Seattle, both wore plaid shirts. Pearl Jam even had a cameo in the classic slacker film, Singles; that’s about as Gen X as you get. The difference is that the members of Pearl Jam have grown older together, have had to change with the times, and are still putting out decent, relevant music. In the 90's, they even challenged the increased corporatization of rock-n-roll by boycotting Ticketmaster and selling tickets to their live shows themselves. 

As I listened to the words of “Just Breathe” it became clear just how “mature” Pearl Jam has become. I’m not a schmaltzy person by nature but I found myself almost getting choked up: Yes, I understand that every life must end, aw-huh. As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, aw-huh. Oh, I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love. Some folks just have one, others, they've got none, uh-huh.  In his twenties, Eddie Vedder was singing about being alive; now, like the rest of us Gen Xers, he's coming to terms with the fact that his life is probably more than half over. His voice is deeper and more gravelly than it was twenty years ago. He sounds like a man who has been through hard times and has learned from his mistakes...a man who realizes one's worth is best measured by the amount of love--not money--in one's life.