1997, the year I turned twenty years old. I sit here now and it’s hard to believe 1997 was eighteen years ago, because when this song (and others like it) plays, it feels like I’m STILL that college co-ed. Then I look in a mirror and it’s Hello, sagging breasts, there’s the grey hair I need to touch up with the dye that I pretend isn’t dye, and goddamn it, there’s the chin beard all the older women in my mother’s family grow. But my chin beard is not the point of this post. No, the point is I can’t get into the music of today. My four year old niece loves Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and her favorite song, Rude, is by One Hit Wonder band, Magic, all of whom make me cringe. Because I’m still listening to Bush, Apocalyptica, The Rasmus, Seether (and when I say Seether, I mean I REALLY love the stuff they did when they were called Saron Gas), Rammstein, HIM (and when I say HIM, I mean the Finnish band fronted by Ville Valo, not the lord god almighty), Nirvana (yeah, I know, Kurt shot himself, but the CD of Nevermind that I bought a million years ago is still good), the Foo Fighters (fronted by Dave Grohl of Nirvana). Dave Matthews (John Mayer and Coldplay sound just like him, but they never credit him). I mean, I joined the modern world and I have an iPad…but the soundtrack of my youth is blaring from the speakers of that iPad. My sister says, “did you hear the new song from Fall Out boy?” And I look at her like she has four heads because Why the blue fuck do I wanna hear Fall Out boy, when I’m very happy blasting Smells Like Teen Spirit…shit, maybe if I play it loud enough, Kurt will rise from his holy grave and come back to make music again. You don’t know.