Pop music is really only important to teenagers; you can't fake enthusiasm forever. That's an indication that you can often judge how "important" a musical style is by the age of its fans. Listening to pop music has always inspired alienation in the old -- once a person gets past a certain age, it becomes difficult for him to understand exactly what's so great about the shit on the radio. The best that one can do is try to hang on to the shreds of the music that one liked as a teenager, and watch as the kicks you once took for granted get harder and harder to find.

This is why the Rolling Stones make so much money when the go on tour. In spite of their own efforts, there are still lots and lots of baby-boomers out there; they like music, yes, but not the new stuff. They wonder why the kids out there don't understand the things that they like are the gold standard for music. But hey, that's the burden of every generation.

What they're doing is chasing an aesthetic. I don't believe that the only reason that the over thirty set wants to wallow in the past is to recapture their youth. It just happens that people begin to learn how to place value on pop culture when they are teenagers. All adolescents go through a period of insecurity, which stems from not knowing how to handle adult life. How to get a job, how to budget money, how to dress for success and listen to music that will have some positive effect on their lives -- these things begin as mysteries to them. Eventually, they learn what the "right" thing to do is (with a lot of help from record companies and clothing manufacturers, etc.). The aesthetics that they learn are as inevitable as the color of their eyes and hair. I had the misfortune of growing up while Nirvana was famous.

The problem I had with Nirvana, was not necessarily a problem with their popularity, at least not a first. I was always a little behind the times, musically speaking. I would buy all of the popular albums of the day, but always about a year after they came out. It was the strategy of a cheapskate: I could find just about anything I wanted in the remainders bin, if I waited long enough. But by the time that I was ready to shell out for a copy of "Nevermind", Kurt Cobain was dead. And then, in a fit of hipster stupidity, I decided that I didn't want to have to deal with the guys who worked at the record store. I was certain that the would feel compelled to comment on my purchase (as they often did). I was too chicken to face up to their disdain, so I went without. All I had to judge Nirvana with were their singles. I didn't know if it was genius on those tapes, or just watery punk rock. It's been long enough now, that I've decided that I don't care. So the new single, isn't grabbing me. While I'm nostalgic for the era in which Nirvana played a huge part, I'm don't miss the band itself very much. I want the Pixies, and Juliana Hatfield, and Lush, and Sugar. I want Bikini Kill, and Ethyl Meatplow, and The Stone Roses, and The Afghan Whigs. But I'm not going to get them back, any more than I can pretend to be hearing Nirvana for the first time; new single or no.

Still, there's enough old stuff out there for me to find without having to get a Nirvana box set. I also don't have to listen to the radio if I don't want to. My appreciation for music was set back in the early nineties; that means that when I complain to the next generation music fans about the state of rock and roll, they'll rightly be able to tell me I'm full of shit should I try to flaunt the superiority of my taste. And I'll remind them that regardless of the quality of the new sounds, their favorite bands are as irrelevant to me as the ones that will come about long after I die.

I'll be at a Cure reunion show in Vegas someday. I'm old enough now to admit that I'll be loving every minute of it.

-B. C. Silvia