Thursday, October 10, 2019

The Grandmother Of All Questions: Is Rock Dead?

Hi, how ya doing? Aren't you just a wee bit tired of all these "Is Rock Dead?" think-pieces that seem to appearing with greater frequency as of late?

It used to be you'd see a few appear after a particularly bright period for rock began to peter out. but such declarations have been around for as long as rock & roll itself. I imagine the first may have been published shortly after Pat Boone murdered "Tutti" Frutti".

Rock and roll was never meant to last, you see.

It was like that complete stranger you fucked at the carnival that one time. Are you sure you wanna celebrate the 50th anniversary of that?!?

Admittedly, rock was always a seducer; a roman candle burning at both ends, dazzling us with one brief but brilliant burst of sparkly color; while the record labels and tour promoters took our money.

Obviously, as long as Keith Richards and Pete Townshend are still out there showing the new kids how its done, rock will never be dead, but it will be extremely fucking old and completely incapable of replicating the greatness of their 25-year-old selves.

We're a forgiving bunch, though.

Thing is, "Rock" was, is, and will always be a young man's game, yet we geezers who grew up on it keep bending the rules so that we don't ever have to admit that our heroes are embarrassing themselves because to do so would be to admit that we've lost a step or three.

In that sense, there almost needs to be a Senior PGA for rock bands who are well past their "sell-by" date but addicted to that sweet, sweet casino and Ribfest money.

And no more stadium tours for the Stones. Let's not be fucking ridiculous. The only reason for doing so these days is so we don't actually get an up-close look at Keith Richards. Those who have know what I'm talking about. Those who don't, just Google that shit.

If those guys don't wanna play the Ribfest circuit or the local Broken Spoke Poker Parlour & Performing Arts Centre, then maybe they shouldn't be doing it.

One suspects that might just change the band's outlook on "the future of the Rolling Stones" and, if that is the case, fuck 'em for making albums just so they could play stadiums again and taking our money just because we all thought, just by looking at them, that this might be the last time, maybe the last time, I dunno.

It is obvious by now that both Keith and Mick are going to outlive our grandchildren, so next year's Stones tour won't be the last one either.

And, for fuck's sake, no more celebrating the 50th Anniversary of anything related to rock & roll.

Did you not read the part about rock music being a young man's game?

What would we young rockers have thought of Frank Sinatra touring in support of one of his records turning 50?

We'd have laughed our asses off and not in a good way.

But here we are.

Think of where we could be musically if we could let go of our youth and not force it upon later generations. Remember when you inherited your older brothers's love for Floyd and Aerosmith? That should have never happened. We each deserve our own heroes, not somebody else's hand-me-downs.

And to those of us who still claim to love "new music", our music collections betray us. Sorry, but, as much as we love 'em,  that tasty Abbey Road 50th Anniversary Edition re-issue is not "new music".

Those who buy such things aren't rock fans.

No, we're fucking archeologists at this point, scouring a vast wasteland for a few remaining relics of a bygone age.

"I think I found a femur belonging to a Ringopotamus!"

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