If I'm going to be kind to myself, this is what I'd call an essay. If I'm being mean, it'll be a cheesy nostalgic trip down the slum side of memory lane. And, if I'm being honest, it's probably a time-worn reflection on what getting older means.

I tend to think about the past--probably too much, which is a shame because I'm doing some pretty kick ass work now that a younger Joe would've never been able to dream of. But I've always believed it's good to know where you've come from--for better or worse; it tends to give you better perspective about where you really are and where you're really going.

I remember over a decade ago being so infatuated with a whole new world that was suddenly exploding right before my eyes. People were doing things--interesting things, notable things and things that tickled my imagination. You had the whole "grunge" (what a horrible word in retrospect) thing that had (thankfully) started disposing of the bloated power-ballad hard rockin' hair bands of the day. There were 'zines and the burgeoning world of the internet suddenly made things seem accessible. There was something out there, and even if you weren't sure what it was there was something you could do. It was a tempered, angsty kind of optimism.

I started thinking about some of the people that I thought had it made, who were going to turn the world on its ear and who were (and in many ways, still are) big influences on my work. I've found some obituaries (Cobain pops up first in most conversations, but Gene Eugene was a bigger loss for me. If you wonder why, try and find the song "Dig" by his band Adam Again...) Indie 'zines have disappeared or been assimilated into monolithic internet marketing agencies. The internet became too much of a good thing and collapsed under its own weight turning into mass marketing for penis enlargement, Vicodin, pornography and generally sophomoric crap pumped out by early twenty-something hipsters.

What's the most sobering for me are the ones that have gone from brilliant, to mediocre to just plain gone. Mike Roe and Mike Knott are two musicians whose music I still love (early stuff, mainly) and who are still technically around, but have just kind of stopped being important. Now I'm not knocking either of those guys (honestly I haven't heard either of their new albums which are supposed to be very good according to some reports...) but as the 90's went on, it just seemed like they were content to stop being vital and innovative. They'd flirted with fame and had gotten enough of a taste to know that being good at what you do is often the kiss of death for marketing and sales, and so they changed approaches. At least that's what it seemed like.

And then I remember the dinosaurs. The guys who back in, say, '95 were still wearing t-shirts that proudly proclaimed that Slaughter was the greatest band ever and that they just wish that this grunge shit would go away so real rock could come back. They had been left behind but still believed that they were on the cutting edge and that all the kids wearing flannels and combat boots with strange piercings were just some teeny bopper fad that didn't know its ass from a hole in the ground. And I realize I don't want to be the guy in the Slaughter shirt. I don't want to be extinct and fossilizing under a mountain of antiquated sediment. But I'm not going to like Nickleback, either.

I love baseball and watching the great home run chase between McGwire and Sosa was a moment that sticks with me. But three years later McGwire was gone, his record broken by an ingrate. It's probably just that I'm getting older, but the excitement in everything just seems to be bleeding away. What's more is it's not being replaced by anything. There was an energy in the early-to-mid 90's in music and culture that began falling apart as soon as bands like Bush and Matchbox 20 started getting play and now I can't turn on the radio without hearing some pop punk travesty that sounds like it should be (or has been) in some Hilary Duff movie soundtrack.

I was checking out a website by an established but still up-and-coming author. He was supposed to be blisteringly funny and insightful and the voice of a new generation. I read some of his samples and it was simply atrocious. I don't care that deeply about grammar or "naughty words" or strange themes (obviously) but this guy would make a vague claim, then swear a lot and then move on. He'd make an interesting character if he was being written because it would be clear that he was a satire, but since reality is apparently much dumber than fiction I was not privy to even that level of satisfaction.

Perhaps it's all this election nonsense, but I liked things better when the rule of the day was introspection and self-evaluation. Granted it did tend to lead to long entries of unbearably and unflinchingly angsty and vulnerable poetry from every corner of the globe, but it was a small price to pay. Now it seems like people are more interested in telling everyone else what to think and what they should consider important. It's all about painting in broad strokes and changing the world instead of trying to be a decent human being.

Now I know I'm over-generalizing and romanticizing a bit of the past. Perhaps the best way to look at it is a cultural low-point. It's all cyclical anyway, right? We're back in the Lief Garrett/New Kids on the Block cycle and soon we'll be, well, listening to metal again. Not exactly the high point I was hoping for, but it'll have to do for now, I suppose.

And it all comes full circle with me older and angrier than I was back then (but still with a full head of hair--score!) but just doing my thing. The thing about it is, spots of time that are "exciting" or "progressive" usually don't have much to do with what's come immediately before but what people have been doing all along but no one's really noticed.

Maybe that's what getting older is about--keeping that little flicker of what enticed you in your formidable days going while you do what you have to do to cover bills, pay the mortgage, or whatever. Just letting it sit and burn for a while, taking your opportunities as they come (because by now you've learned that every day is not an opportunity, but every now and then opportunities do come along...) and slowly carving something out of it.

Or maybe everything just sucks right now and we need to hunt and kill the bastard(s) responsible.

Either way.

-Joe