The Problem with Bow Wow Wow

Bow Wow Wow would not fly in 2021.

I think after people realized that Britney Spears was being marketed as some kind of teenie sex object and people felt rightly icky about it.

But in the early 80’s, we didn’t think anything about it. Well, maybe not that hard about it.

If you’re going, who? Then I’ll give a primer.

Malcolm McLaren, impresario and lothario of the Sex Pistols and the London scene, formed a band around budding scenster Adam Ant, and named them Adam & the Ants. When Mr. Ant got too…independent (like Johnny Rotten), McLaren pulled the Ants away from him, and formed a new band. This time, McLaren found a perfect singer. A young teen, with no training or previous artistic vision.

(Adam Ant found other Ants. He did just fine.)

Annabella Lwin was the singer. She was beautiful, and…13. McLaren played up the beauty and seemed not to care or cared too much that Lwin was a minor. In 1980, they released their first single. The next year, they released their first album, with the cover depicting Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, by Manet. You know the one, with the guys on a picnic blanked with a nude woman next to them and one in the background.

Lwin was nude. She was 14. FOURTEEN!

There was controversy, including a complaint by Lwin’s mother. Undeterred, McLaren used that photo for an EP cover, and then another nude shot of Lwin (with no naughty parts exposed) for a US compilation.

They got MTV play thanks to the video for their remake of “I Want Candy”, released an album where Lwin wrote the lyrics, and then after a tour she was fired. By age 16, she was on the outs.

Now, the “I Want Candy” video was provocative, to say the least. Me, as an MTV viewer at the time, Lwin was a naughty angel. I had a big crush on Claire Grogan of Altered Images (another rather young singer) who was the good girl, it seemed. Lwin was the BAD girl, licking that ice cream cone and playing in the water with a skimpy shirt.

I didn’t know she was just 15 or 16 when that was filmed. She was a year younger than me, but girls in my high school didn’t do what she was doing. (Well, if they did I didn’t know. I was kind of a wallflower and a geeky nerd dork).

I never pulled the trigger on getting a Bow Wow Wow album. RCA released one in 1982 but Target in Crawfordsville never had it, and by the time I got to JL Records in West Lafayette they never had it in stock. Alas.

But I grabbed a big CD compilation, and I was a bit…uncomfortable.

I knew Lwin was underage. I knew that McLaren basically exploited her visual image. But hearing “Go Wild in the Country” (where she wants to romp naked in the forest), and “Louis Quatorze” (where she sings about being raped by the Sun King and falling in love with him) gave me the willies.

What was the most unfortunate was that those two tracks were their best TWO tracks on the collection. They sound fun and energetic, and the arrangements make the best use of their Burundi-drum sound. Bassist Leah Gorman goes tastefully crazy, and drummer Dave Barbarossa is solid.

Yet, the true jailbait image really sticks to me.

The kicker is that the songs weren’t written by Lwin. Not at all. She was the mouthpiece for McLaren (who wrote the lyrics).

In contemporary interviews, Lwin defended the covers and the image. But now, she says McLaren used her mom’s outrage for publicity and regrets that.

As I sit in 2021, Bow Wow Wow is definitely problematic. I can’t recommend them, much as I love some of their tracks.

We’ve evolved as a society, for the better. Nudity is fine by me, but not these images of someone that young. Sorry if that makes me a prude – 1983 Scott would definitely say that. But 1983 Scott didn’t have two daughters.

We’ll Never Let Let It Be Be

Ah, Let It Be. The album that started out as Get Back, recorded during the absolute lowest of the low point of the Beatles as a band. A set of sessions and rehearsals, filmed for a movie, meant to be presented without studio flim-flammery and trickery (RAW Beatles!), went through a lot before emerging in 1970 as a sour-tasting coda to the Beatles legacy.

Many have said that they shouldn’t have allowed Phil Spector to monkey with the tapes. Many have said that they should have released the original Glyn Johns version, or the second Glyn Johns version. Or some combination thereof.

It’s complicated, and I’ll boil it down.

The Beatles threw the tapes at Glyn Johns and said ‘make an album out of this crap’. He did. They rejected it. They made Abbey Road instead. Good call.

Mind you, the whole concept of the Beatles raw and without overdubs went out the window, just as soon as “Get Back” was released as a single since there were reverb effects added. Shame shame.

Depsite the rancor around the sessions and the film, it was going to come out in 1970. The Beatles asked Johns to try again, but only put tracks that were going to be in the film. So, the excerable “Teddy Boy” was jettisoned (THANK GOD!), and George’s “I Me Mine” (which was shown in a segment showing George running through the song on an acoustic guitar) was hastily recorded by George, Ringo, and Paul. “Across the Universe”, shown in a rehearsal, was also added to the album as a remix of the 1968 track that was given to a charity album. (Yeah, that’s right, “Across the Universe” was left off of multiple Beatles projects for 18 months…)

The Beatles rejected that version as well. The film was coming out soon, so what to do?

Hand the tapes over to Phil Spector, and see what he can do.

He did…things.

Now, you’re not going to give Phil Spector tapes to produce without expecting…something akin to a Spector production. And that’s what you got.

But…Paul was furious. Well, furious about “The Long and Winding Road”, since he Spectored that up. “Let It Me” had some sweetening too, but there were already strings on the recording. Spector just made them louder. Spector also moved around some studio chatter, which was in keeping with the original concept. He smartly got rid of the jam and the “Save the Last Dance” snippet, but he also got rid of “Don’t Let Me Down” for some damn reason.

McCartney carried a grudge forever, and in the 00’s he got Ringo and the widows of George and John to allow him to release a version called Let It Be…Naked. It was the takes Spector had used without the Spector touch, or the studio chatter or false starts, and it made minor track adjustments (losing “Dig It” and “Maggie Mae” and adding “Don’t Let Me Down”).

That version didn’t please people either.

And it’s 2020, and there’s no sign of a remix or remaster album coming (and the updated and re-mixed film either). The hold up, some speculate, is what the hell to do?

Well, here’s my idea.

First, Glyns Johns made some daft take choices. (Yes, I’ve heard his original version thanks to a bootleg procured before eBay noticed such things.) But in keeping with the vision of the RAW UNCOOKED BEATLES he made them sound sloppy as hell. Spector used the best takes, and more rooftop concert takes. (There was only one on Johns version).

Second, while “Maggie Mae” was a fun little ditty, “Dig It” was a snoozy jam fest notable for John’s name check of BB King , Doris Day, and Matt Busby (a star footballer). “Teddy Boy” should have been thrown away, and probably every take in existence melted down for scrap (Paul’s got a lot of tracks like that hanging around somewhere, and some leak out onto his albums).

Third, Paul was right about the over-use of strings and what not Spector did, especially on “Across the Universe” and “The Long and Winding Road”. But Spector did clean up the sound, picked the best takes, made the album cohere. He also did a neat trick by doubling up “I Me Mine” (though the strings were intrusive again).

My solution to this whole thing?

Well, you got a chance to make everyone happy.

Make it a big-ass mongo package.

First, the four extant versions (two unreleased, two released) can be part of it. Second, scouring the best outtakes and rehearsal stuff can be a fifth disk and the single version of “Get Back” and “Let It Be” can be there. (And, for the out and out junkies, release everything there. I mean, Rhino Handmade did that for the Fun House sessions by the Stooges, and you haven’t lived until you’ve heard multiple takes of “Loose”.

But the main event is a remixed and remastered album. Use the Let It Be…Naked track sequence and add back in “Maggie Mae” after “One After 909”. Use the Spector track choices, double up “I Me Mine” still, but don’t use the strings and choir. Use the original “Across the Universe” at the regular speed. And sprinkle in the chatter that makes sense, where they’re supposed to go.

A tidy 12-track record.

They didn’t ask me, but I delivered anyway.

UPDATE: It’s October 2021, and yeah, they’ve re-released the album with scads of bonus tracks, and the new documentary is coming out Thanksgiving. I still stand by my version of the album, though!

Redesign Hell

No, not this blog or my music review site.

Unrelated to the main thrust of this essay: I’m having an issue with motivation in writing reviews during the Pandemic. I love doing my radio show but where I thought I would have more time (especially during a furlough) I find I have myriad things to do (maintining our new rental house, unpacking, arguing with idiots on social media, spending quality time with loved ones) that seem to get in the way. I have playlists of You Tube videos and such that still sit there, unseen. I thought I’d watch old baseball and NFL games, too, or full music concerts. Fucking virus is sapping my joys and I’m virus free.


In the past few weeks, a couple of the sites I use a lot are changing. Facebook is moving to a new UX design for its desktop platform and it’s hot garbage. It pulls your eyes in five directions at once and what I deem important (notifications, new posts) are difficult to find or respond to.

But that’s not the worst. The worst is You Tube Music.

A while ago, Google said they were going to shut down Google Play Music and move everyone over to You Tube music. That’s fine – I love watching music videos on You Tube and maybe the melding of You Tube and music streaming would be great.

So, when they announced that we could port over our Google Play Libraries over to You Tube music, I was intrigued and excited.

Soon, I was cursing and stomping about, and wondering why a thing I loved quite a bit was being trundled off to an inferior product.

The transfer process took a long time. Well, I am a special kind of use (power user I guess) where I have about 135,000 tracks and several large playlists. That would take time, for sure.

So after five days (!!) and three converstaions with support, the transfer worked. Hooray! I couldn’t wait to see what it was like.

Oh, fuckity, it was disappointingly wretched.

The layout seemed OK. More in line with the Amazon Prime Music or Spotify layouts. Ok. Sure. Whatever. I’m not really interested in that. I want to know what my library looks like.

So I clicked on ‘Library’.

Here’s where I hit it.

The playlists are displayed first, and they combine You Tube playlists and Music playlists.

No. I know they wanted synergy or syzygy or someother tech buzzword, but no. Music and video are different for me. I want my hot side and cool side separate dammit! I use my music playlists much differently than my video playlists.

In my real job, I aim for simplicity in tables and ease of use. I have to write queries and exports and need to find the elements quickly and if the tables or data elements are clouded with extraneous entries then its takes time. If our end users (non tech people that they are) can’t find what they need in a table, then they won’t use it.

But the worst?

It’s how they display your library. The one that I’ve curated for FIVE years, starting from my old iTunes library and moving forward, dealing with times where I’ve somehow hit an invisible limit of songs that I added to my library from the streaming service. (That’s where playlists come in, and that’s where my Amazon Prime Music subscription kicks in – I use that to kick the tires on stuff before moving to my main catalog).

My largest quibble besides the ‘invisible’ limit (they don’t tell you the ceiling and it changes all the time it seems) was that songs and albums would drop off without notice (at least on Amazon they gray it out so you know what was missing – Google does the same thing with You Tube too – you don’t know what’s gone so you can’t think to look for a replacement).

But on You Tube Music:

It splits your catalog in two. It puts your ‘subscription’ music in one view and your ‘uploaded’ music in another view. AND THE TWAIN SHALL NEVER MEET.

For instance, in my iTunes catalog I had a lot of partial albums because I loaded them in from CDs where I was conscious of the iPod limits on storage, and also got a lot of collections. Using the streaming library I could fill in the cracks for full albums, which became quite helpful when reviewing albums. (I’ve been reviewing more and more collections lately but that’s because I realized I didn’t need every damn Kool and the Gang album in my collection, and they’re a group where the large collections mostly grab the best tracks – singles or not).

But, on You Tube music, an album where I have both uploaded and subscription tracks are bifurcated. So I can’t listen to the entire album in one go from my library. I can’t do an entire library shuffle. I can’t look at my entire album list to choose what to review.

And then, the views of the subscription aren’t sortable, as far as I can see. It’s last in first up. I’m a guy who, despite my work desk, likes organization. (Or organizing the things I treasure). So I don’t want to see Rose Hill Drive or Pylon first. I want to see like 10cc or something first (or ABBA depending on how they sort numbers and punctuation).

And the thing that really chafes me? I can’t change the meta data on my music.

Why is that important?

Well, because it is, and I’ve learned that sometimes the tags have things like “Remastered” or “Deluxe Edition” that causes albums on Google Play to not sync up. Sometimes there are errors in the year (important for me since I review chronologically). And sometimes it’s just…wrong.

I can’t do that on You Tube music. I’m stuck with what they have.

The only advantage that You Tube music has now over Spotify or Amazon is the chance to upload my own songs. And yes, if something is missing on streaming that I want I go grab the used CD, upload it, move it to my cloud library, and go on with life.

There are some streaming holdouts. Not a lot. And some obscure records aren’t streaming mostly due to horrible, outdated licensing agreements. (Many UK hits in the 80’s and 90’s aren’t licensed over here, but I can find ’em on You Tube).

But some of them are important to review, and if I move totally over to Spotify or Amazon it’s not going to be possible to really review them and put them in the catalog I want to build.

However, with the You Tube Music interface as it stands now, it’ll be better for me to move everything over to one of those services, and re-download all of the music I uploaded and store them on another cloud drive.

It’s not just me. In their ‘help’ section many users are complaining about the same thing. The ‘power’ users like me really WANT that functionality. They want to edit, and they want to see their catalog all at once.

Otherwise, why have this product when others are just as teneable and have more users, and more chances to share tracks and ideas.

So, I’m taking a break from writing reviews until I get this sorted out. Because while this may be ‘minor’ to some, my music collection is a major part of my life and has been since my brother and sister shared their music with me.

I hate to stop doing something I love to do right now, but I don’t want to get angry when I want to listen to tracks. So I’m just going to explore the music I’ve socked away on Amazon for now to see what I want to put into my catalog, and hope You Tube / Google wakes up and realizes what they’ve done.

I’m not expecting that, though.

I’m Not Going to Be in a Band

At age 54, I finally decided to give up the dream. I’ve realized, finally, that I’m never going to be in a band.

Yeah, you ask, what the hell you play? The answer is that I used to play trumpet in school, and I can read music. (Mostly treble clef, but I can fake it on the bass clef).I know a few chords, some rudimentary theory, but lack the manual dexterity or patience to play guitar or bass, and the coordination for drums, and the ear, along with everything else for anything but the most basic keyboard or synthesizer.

Yet, despite it all, I dreamed. I dreamed it during days, at night, during meetings, while listening to tunes, while watching shows…basically anywhere. Even after I outgrew the fallacy that I could play some sort of college or professional sports (that lack of coordination, dexterity, and other things, you know), I still held on to the music thing.

And it was always a band. I wanted to be part of a unit. Not a solo artist, but part of a living, breathing band.

It first manifested itself when I started to write on the back of my K-Tel records who among my friends would sing the songs that we’d cover. I had four vocalsits, me, a friend, and our two elementary school crushes. Pipe dreamin’ in more ways than one.

It really started in high school. I had friends who could really play, and there were a couple of honest-to-goodness bands from my high school. My best friend could also play guitar. So after my assignments were done (I was pretty quick in doing schoolwork), I’d create bands and albums and what not. I had a main band, and then a couple of off-shoots (the side projects before side projects were cool).

In college, I went from there to actually writing lyrics. A serious girlfriend will do that. But I didn’t write music – the melodies were in my head and I never got them out on paper. I thought these lyrics were the bomb – sensitive, poignant, arty.

I was rather much mistaken in retrospect. Cringe worthy.

This hit its peak when I moved to Indy and had a job that was less than challenging at the first. I had plenty of time, and a cube in the back, where I could daydream. I came up with an entire list of band names (I may still have that somewhere – it included such names as Ethelred the Unready, Topless Waitresses, and the “No” symbol” – the circle with the line through it).

But my big deal was creating a band, on paper, that started out as an indie band, got signed, made 20 or so records, had a couple of hit singles, plenty of original tunes (I could come up with song titles like no one’s business) and our singles would always have cover songs as the B-sides. It had an entire back story, and it ended when we decided to go into production full-time or something. We had one album where every song was listed as a color (not with a title), so Track 1 was a block of Purple, Track 2 Aqua, etc.

When I started to go to grad school for my MBA, and then got jobs that were actually challenging, and started a family that wish-casting was put aside. Oh, I’d do things like buy a keyboard on sale at Costco, but I always returned it or gave it away.

Then, for some reason, the notion came back. It never was really out of my head, but with my streaming catalog and access to gajillions of songs (thanks Google Play) it came back with a vengeance. That and knowing a couple of singers and musicians here at my job at Central Washington U.

So I started to create playlists, and played them in the car and while grilling, or cleaning. It would be my bands set list. It got a bit out of control.

First, the band would be a six-piece. My favorite barista on vocals (she actually sings for a band). My opera singing friend on vocals and keyboards. (She’s a soprano, and the barista’s an alto – it fits well). My best friend and his wife on guitar and occasional keyboards and vocals (backing mostly). I’d be on bass and have the good sense to be quiet, and we’d get some drummer. Hey, I work at a college with a great music program. There are drummers abounding.

When I say out of control – I had two playists. Mainstream (ish) and Alternative (ish). I’d program deeper cuts and forgotten singles, not the big hits. I’d find songs that would sound good with our mix, and if we needed a violin or something (like when covering Camper Van Beethoven or mid-period Roxy Music) I had a former student worker who played an electric violin and would add a hippie-chick barefoot presence on stage.

Oh, these playlist were….huge. Almost 1,000 total. (This doesn’t count the three I made for a band for songs to consider.) It rangerd from “Pony” by Ginuwine (mostly as a hoot, but still), to “Starship Trooper” by Yes, to “Hocus Pocus” by Focus, to “Incense and Peppermints” by the Strawberry Alarm Clock. And plenty of progressive, punk, classic rock, and new wave tracks.

Oh, I was proud of this playlist and this band that WAS going to happen, if I ever learned to play the bass and got these six people in the same area code. (Hard to do when two live near DC, and one is in the Palm Springs area).

So I was telling this to my best friend about this and he had one comment. “Well, you’d book one show, and that’d be it. Gotta keep the audience interested. This isn’t playing your record collection on stage.”

Well, I never…thought of it like that.

No matter how good we were, this was going to be too eclectic, too all over the place, too much ME for it to work. I still held on, somehow, but in the dentist’s chair a couple of days ago (where all good thinking happens), I realized that even the .0001% chance of it happening was not something to hold onto.

Really, who remembers “Sausalito Summer Nights” by Diesel, much less wants to hear it on stage?

I still have the playlists, and probably will add more to them for the road, but alas, it’s just not going to be limited to songs I’d play on stage.

So the dream is over.

Unless I hit the lottery. Then I can buy instruments, a studio and rehearsal place, and pay my friends to come play with me.

So maybe it’s not over…just deferred until I get that filthy lucre.

The Trouble With…

I’d be lying if I said that I have purged my entire music catalog of people who have been found, or accused of, bad behavior. Not parking ticket bad, and not even drug use bad. But BAD behavior – crimes against others.

And I’d be lying if I said that I’ve purged my catalog of any song that mentions, or even celebrates bad behavior.

But I do have some issues with those behaviors, real or imagined. And my reaction to it seemingly depends on the artist, their catalog, and what they mean to the music scene as a whole.

First off, let’s acknowledge that there were plenty of old musicians – blues, jazz, country, big band, etc. that weren’t model citizens. Rock followed with angels, and devils, and people in between.

Country artists wrote about prison and murder with regularity. Jerry Lee Lewis was perpetually in trouble with society, for his marriages and relationships. Ira Louvin, Spade Cooley and many others treated their wives like speed bags. Rock, soul, and R&B had similar problems.

These early stars reflected the environment of the times. Many things were swept under the rug, if they could be, for white males. Many things were out in the open for black performers. Women weren’t even considered here – they were supposed to be window dressing.

This kept going on, unfortunately. In the 70’s, the era of excess, rock stars routinely bedded “super groupies”, the most famous of them all was only 14 and was Jimmy Page’s concubine for a few months (after David Bowie introduced them). At least two performers, Ted Nugent and Steven Tyler, adopted their underage girlfriends. This was shrugged off, seemingly, and no outcry or stink impeded their careers.

In the 80’s, Tipper Gore came on the scene with the PMRC to try to ‘clean up’ rock. We all know how that went down. The targets she picked were either obsucre (the Mentors anyone?) or totally misunderstood.

Funny thing, though, it wasn’t until hip hop started to reflect life on the street in violent, unsanitized terms that people started to really take notice. Charlton Heston reading the words to “Cop Killer” was laughable, but Middle America seemingly no longer could roll with sexism and violence – if it came from black voices.

Fortunately, we’re smart enough as people to realize (this may be a stretch but I’m here on a limb and I’m not retreating) to understand the difference between character work and real life. I didn’t expect Ice-T to bust out on the streets hunting cops with a sub-machine gun.

But how do you deal with real life issues in the here and now when domestic violence, statutory rape, and other allegations of abuse (emotional and physical) and criminal behavior are no longer whispered about, or amusing anectodes, but out in the open court for public shaming?

Who do we give a pass to?

Sadly, I think it’s dependent on your relationship to the work of the artist and how vital it seems to you. I never was really on board with R. Kelly or Chris Brown, so it’s easy for me to cast them aside. Gary Glitter was always disposable, and he’s easy to dispose now (except at sporting events).

For older artists, or artists where the transgressions were 40 or more years ago, I don’t think I can do more than say “that’s not right, at all.” I still marvel at the Louvin Brothers’ harmonies even knowing Ira was a drunk that beat his wife and girlfriends. Zeppelin, the Stooges, Bowie, and Aerosmith are still on my playlists knowing that in the 70’s they had sex with groupies under 16.

There’s a song called “Francine” by ZZ Top. It’s a nice blues rocker from their second album and was their first charting single. Yet the final verse states that Francine just turned 13. Ick. I don’t know if that was the reason it stalled on the Hot 100 or not, but…yikes.

But what to do with someone like Ryan Adams? Adams was always a favorite of mine. Starting from his days as an alt-country heartthrob in Whiskeytown to his varied and enigmatic solo career, Adams was one to follow and watch. He mostly made great records, and even if he whiffed many times it was intriguing to see him try.

Now, though, it has come out that Adams was emotionally abusive to Mandy Moore (allegedly) during their relationship, and Adams also had a close mentee who was an underaged female and that he exchanged inappropriate messages with regularly. There are other stories of him grooming female artists and then going in for the kill, sexually.

I loved Adams’ work, and was sorry that I never had seen him live. Was. Right now, I don’t know what I’ll do about Adams’ music in my collection. I’ll review his albums, neutrally, but as for my own personal catalog I don’t know. “Love Is Hell” is always a go-to for me when I’m down. But is it such a go to considering the source? The CDs I had are sunk costs, but if I stream an Adams song now that wasn’t uploaded personally, he’s going to get royalties.

We’re all going to be confronted with these choices. When we take the fandom blinders off, and are left with the person and their art, what are we going to do? Where is that line?

It’s blurred, now.

The Best Show I Didn’t See

It was 1992, and I was single and living in Indianapolis. I fell in with a crowd that inhabited several haunts in Broad Ripple listening to bands that played original music. Yes, an original music scene in Indianapolis – go figure.

Most of the time was spent at the Patio, where local bands played along with smaller national acts. It was there that I met and hung with (a bit) the Birdmen of Alcatraz, which were a great rock-funk-rap group ala the Red Hot Chili Peppers but with less pandering and more reality.

I saw them play around town, too, and they introduced me to their tattoo artist, where I got my first tattoo. It was a trident (“the symbol of the sea” as I sad to my less-than-hip friends).

It was also the logo for the band Prong.

In the late 80’s and early 90’s Prong went from being a scuzzy hardcore-ish band that inhabited the NYC scene to a national hardcore metal-y act that played loud and denomically. The logo I got tattooed on my arm was from their first full-length album (Force Fed), where they played detuned punk-metal songs without abandon. I dug that record tremendously.

By 1991, they had released two major-label albums. They also changed bassists and added a little funk and swing into their doom-laden punk metal. During the tour for the Prove You Wrong record they played in Indiana. Not in Indianapolis, though. In Bloomington, home of Indiana University.

Bloomington had a couple of clubs that were like the clubs in Indy, where local artists or national acts played almost daily. And when the national acts came through, local bands opened up for them, usually. The Birdmen were going to open for Prong, and damned if I wasn’t going to be there.

I got my ticket and headed to Bloomington, found a place to park nearby, and went into the show. I went up front near the edge of the stage so I could be nearby without being in the actual mosh-pit. See, I wore glasses, and I couldn’t afford to have them broken, and I definitely couldn’t drive from Bloomington to Indianapolis without them. So being on the edges gave me some protection. I could move people back into the pit without being in the melee.

After the Birdmen set, I noticed people gathering closer to the stage. I then had a brilliant idea.

I ran back to my car, put my glasses in my glove box, and came back to the club. I worked my way back towards the front, knowing that I’d be more likely to be part of the maelstrom than not even if I was near the side.

It was a wide move. While the band was blurry, I could hear everything, and I did get swept up a few times (and helped girls in the front away from goobers that were just there to be violent idiots). It was fantastic, but the best thing happened about 2/3 through the show.

My favorite cut by then was “Freezer Burn”. It was the song that inspired me to get a tattoo. So after a song I was there by the stage where Tommy Victor’s mic was. I rolled up my shirt, showed the tat, and said “FREEZER BURN!” I didn’t think they’d play it because they focused on their latest release for the most part, with their new, funkier bass player.

Next thing I heard was, “Here’s an old one” and he launched into the riff of my favorite Prong song. I was ecstatic. My eyes were wide open (though I was pretty much blind – thanks astigmatism), I sang every word. I banged my head. It was glorious.

I don’t remember anything much after that. I know I went back into my car all sweaty and smelling like beer and bad cigarettes. I got to my car, put my glasses on and headed back to Indy. I got up 20 minutes before I had to be in work, but I made it, somehow. (I had a key to the back door so I did slip in that way).

Did I see the show? Not really. I saw forms and shapes. But I felt the show. And that’s what mattered!

OK Boomer!

I love where I am in life. I’ve been alive for 54+ years and have experienced music from 1968 (my first 45) to the present day, and I’ve taken it all in. Well, there was that time when I didn’t really listen to much since my first wife didn’t like it so loud, and I had kids, and what not. But music’s most always been there as a constant companion and friend.

So I’ve seen the rise and fall of many musical genres, and one thing is consistent. People one or two generations past the target pop music demo will always bitch and moan about award shows and special events.

“The music is terrible.” “It’s not the way it used to be.” “I’m using clever nicknames to put down the artists because I can’t think of anything useful to say.”

All I have to say is….”SHUT THE HELL UP, BOOMER!”

So J-Lo and Shakira wasn’t your thing at the Super Bowl. They spoke to a different crowd than you (Latinx, mostly female, and under 30). So Billy Ellish’s moody pop songs make you scratch your head. She’s trying to break pop out of the era of the song doctors and same-same sounding tracks.

So hip-hop is popular and it makes you uncomfortable. (I could have used this since the 80’s). YOU ARE NOT THE TARGET DEMO! AND THEY’RE DOING INTERESTING THINGS WITH BEATS AND RHYMES.

There are so many ways you can experience music today, and so many ways to customize your listening experience. Heaven forbid you hear something that the kids are listening to today, or that different ethnic groups find popular. Pop music isn’t catering to you anymore – deal with it.

I do have reservations of the ways that music is become so sub-sub-sub genre’d. Radio is the same way, it seems. (I mean, look at the Billboard Charts and how many there are now. It’s no longer just the Hot 100 and Billboard 200 that people pay attention to). But with changes in the way they measure popularity (actual streaming data and radio plays), the charts are much more accurate. The Hot 100 does capture the 100 songs of the week.

And guess what – they’re not the songs you want to hear, Boomer.

So when there’s an award show and something is played that you need to complain about, maybe you should think twice and realize this is not your time. Your time where the pop charts were influenced by you is long past and you wasted it on freakin’ REO Speedwagon and Chicago’s goopy-ass love songs.

And your parents complained about them as well.