Satellite radio, I firmly believe, is Boomer Musak. Except with channels to choose from.
I’m relatively new to this version of radio. It came with the Prius (free for the first six months) and I recently renewed it via a good offer.
How did I not know it was possible to have entire channels dedicated to single performers? Pearl Jam. The Grateful Dead. Elvis.
One channel is Classic Rewind Rock. Another is Classic Vinyl Rock — I listened to that the other day for an hour or so, convinced that someone was channeling my memories of high school and college music, even early grad school. As I drove, I remembered barefoot dances in the grass to some of the tunes.
That’s when I realized that I had turned into one of those old farts. You know the ones. They don’t know who any contemporary singers or bands are. They rail about the decline of lyrics.
A similar moment occurred to me while I was reading People magazine a few days ago. Just who were all these so-called stars and celebrities? With a few exceptions, I was absolutely clueless.
No, I have clearly lost touch somewhere in the last couple of years. Maybe that came along with retirement. It’s not that I’m a curmudgeon. Not really. Or at least, I don’t think so.
Yet I’d prefer listening to nothing rather than listen to Kanye, or Rihanna, or Mariah. Give me a good NPR station. Or some of my own CDs. Or my iPod.
What can I say? I’m proudly Boomer in my music. The Stones are still performing. Crosby, Stills, and Nash will be playing at Neil Young’s fundraiser for learning disabilities. Fleetwood Mac were on tour recently.
Somehow, though, I think I’ll skip the upcoming tour of David Cassidy and Peter Noone (Herman’s Hermits). Their faces on the poster I saw today looked a bit too… refreshed.
They’ve had some cosmetic work done, or a really good air-brushed job.
So let me tune in to Van Morrison. The Beatles.
And while I may not sing in the shower, I guarantee that I sing along in the car. Loudly.
Jimmy Buffett–“God’s Own Drunk.” The Kinks’ “Lola.” Lynerd Skynerd. The Allman Brothers.
God, they don’t make music like that anymore.