Skip to main content

When We Were the . . . um, young adults?

I still don't like to refer to teenagers and college students coming out to punk and hardcore shows as "kids." A few years ago, I did a lengthy rant about this, and my opinion still stands. That said, when I encountered a title that fits perfectly for my next book, I made an exception.

My friend Kyle had a band called Hirudin and one of their songs was called "When We Were the Kids." The song was recorded but never released as Hirudin. The band broke up before they put it out. However, since two-thirds of Hirudin were in Snd On Snd and Snd On Snd played the song live, it made sense when they released the song on a split-7-inch with J Church. So, this great song did see the light of day, and I still really, really wanted to use the song's title for my second book. Besides, When We Were the Young Adults just doesn't sound right.

It's been years since I've heard the song, but basically, the lyrics touch on what it's like to be young and getting into music beyond what mainstream outlets play. Kyle and I had different experiences growing up around the Houston area in the '90s (he got to see Jawbreaker and Rancid play in tiny non-venues; I didn't). But just the basic idea of being young and new to the world of local and independent music is enough to justify using the title.

Not to be a teary-eyed, nostalgic thirty-year-old, but something I didn't have a lot of exposure to when I was a teenager was people my age being incredibly snooty about music in general. When you and your friends are just getting into bands you've never heard of, and you're not aware of terms like "hipster" and "scenester" or genres like no wave and grime, things seem new and really exciting. I wanted to revisit a time when you didn't know the difference between Pink Floyd circa Dark Side of the Moon and Pink Floyd circa A Momentary Lapse of Reason or when you didn't think of Stone Temple Pilots as a Pearl Jam knockoff. Basically, you were just forming your identity as a person and a music fan. Now that's interesting to me and worth exploring.

So, my "kid" stance stands. I do not understand why a member of Panic at the Disco would call a member of the band's audience a "kid" when he or she might be only two or three years younger than him. I don't believe that pop-punk, hardcore, post-hardcore, and emo plays only for a "kid" audience. I think of kids as people who have yet to reach adolescence, not people who have yet to know what A Love Supreme, Bowie's Berlin trilogy, and Minor Threat's Salad Days are. But with a great title like When We Were the Kids for a book, I just can't pass this up.

Comments

Unknown said…
I'm pretty stoked on the concept of this book based upon this and your other posts.

Popular posts from this blog

It's a Long Way Down

There was a time when I listened to Ryan Adams' music practically all the time. Back in 2001, as I finished college and tried to navigate post-college life, the double dose of Whiskeytown’s Pneumonia and Adams’ Gold led me to everything else he had made before. It was countrified rock music that spoke to me in a deep way, mainly on the musical front. I don’t tend to really pay attention to lyrics, but I connected with Adams’ lyrics about being young and perpetually heartbroken. I thought some self-inflicted mental pain about awkward and failed attempts at relationships put me in the headspace to relate to songs by Adams, as well as Bright Eyes. There was so much time and energy spent on anger and sadness directed at myself for things not working out, so I found solace in songs like “Harder Now That It’s Over” and “The Rescue Blues.” As it turned out, there was a pattern in my life: if I had a little taste of a feeling of sadness or anger, I could relate to those who had it

I ain't got no crystal ball

I've never been a big fan of Sublime's reggae-punk-ska, but I feel bad for their hardcore fans. Billboard reports that a four-disc box set featuring previously released and unreleased material is on the way. How is this a bad thing? Well, the number of posthumous vault-raiding collections greatly outnumber the band's proper releases. That usually isn't a problem, but the quality of them is very suspect. When they were together, the band recorded three proper albums, Robbin' the Hood , 40 Oz. to Freedom and Sublime . Sublime would be the band's breakthrough record with the mainstream, but that success was very bittersweet. Shortly before its release, frontman/guitarist/songwriter Bradley Nowell died of a heroin overdose. In the following years, the effects of apparently a bad record deal have yielded compilation after compilation. Here's the rundown so far: Second Hand Smoke (1997) Stand By Your Van -- Sublime Live in Concert (1998) Sublime Acoustic: Br

Best of 2021

  Last year, my attention span was not wide enough to listen to a lot of LPs from start to finish. Too much went on in 2020 to focus on 10-15 albums, so I went with only a couple to spotlight. Well, 2021 was a little better, as I have a list of top four records, and a lot of individual tracks.  (I made a lengthy Spotify playlist ) So, without further ado, here’s my list of favorites of the year: Albums Deafheaven, Infinite Granite (listen) Hands down, my favorite album of the year. I was not sure where Deafheaven would go after another record that brought My Bloody Valentine and death metal fans together, but they beautifully rebooted their sound on Infinite Granite. The divisive goblin vocals are vastly pared-down here, as are the blast beats. Sounding more inspired by Slowdive, the band has discovered a new sonic palette that I hope they explore more of in the future. It’s a welcome revelation. I still love their older material, but this has renewed my love of what these guys do.  J