Everyone likes music. And why shouldn’t they? It can be therapeutic, understanding and offer us an escape from reality. I’ve been a fan since Paula Abdul’s heyday, back in 1992.
I must state that, since then, I have learned to appreciate music from all across the spectrum. It was just Paula who first made me want to get my groove on.
That’s why it greatly bothers me when I hear my friends and fellow concertgoers complain about how the audience at the concerts we attend keeps gradually getting younger.
It seems as if they have forgotten that we were once the 7-year-old kids who had cool enough parents to take us to rock shows. Maybe they blocked out the memory of trying to fit in with the punk rock crowd when they turned 14, because they got hooked into MTV’s Total Request Live and heard “What’s My Age Again” by Blink 182. Meanwhile, all of the older, more dedicated fans were making fun of them, because they had never heard of the albums Cheshire Cat or Dude Ranch.
These people are perpetually stuck in their “I’m over 18 so all shows should be 18+” phase, not being mindful of their roots.
This is the same narrow-minded attitude that college students get when they finally become part of the “21 Club” – my definition for every person who refuses to go to bars that are not 21 and over because they don’t want to associate with the underage crowd. They purposely deprive themselves of Uptown’s 80s Night, because they suddenly got too mature for it. It’s all about Nate and Wally’s or Brathaus from here on out.
Do not misinterpret my opinion – there is nothing wrong with supporting places that have age restrictions. Anyone who knows me understands my devout dedication to the Fishbowl. However, it is the “I’m better than you because I can legally drink” attitude that is despicable.
People forgot how upset it made them when they couldn’t get into the same clubs that their older friends always talked about or be admitted into the venues where they were not allowed to see their favorite performers because of the age restrictions.
The point is that all music enthusiasts, both of live and recorded music, have to start somewhere. It should not matter if they are at the Tom Petty concert with their parents – something I was guilty of – or rocking out to all the songs off of the latest Good Charlotte album, probably another secret I should have kept hidden.
The kids are there for a reason – they like the music. It does not make a difference if they haven’t been lifetime fans or if they don’t own the band’s entire discography. Nobody should care if parents are taking their pre-teen sons and daughters to see the Flaming Lips. I let my dad go with me to that one when I was 18 because he has excellent taste in music.
Many of us are guilty of acquiring the elitist mind-set that comes from being exposed to age-restricted venues and less mainstream music. Sometimes, I am ashamed of who my companions and I have become. Then, I take a look at how far I have developed my own musical appreciation.
So when you’re thinking about going to the Wheatus show at Howard’s tomorrow night, try not to look down your noses at the younger audience members.
At the very least, I will ask my friends and concert buddies this: would you rather have the kids listen to Paula Abdul?
Send comments to Emily at [email protected].
