I'm Not Too Old to Rock - You're Too Young to Understand

I've been a rock and roll fan for 25 years, since I was first riveted by a blistering Hendix solo. Over the ensuing years I've run so far away with a Flock of Seagulls, gone out on a Wire with U2, indulged in some Californication, and Raged Against the Machine. And I have a lot of context, too. Over the decades, I've immersed myself in ska, reggie, hardcore, emo, tecno, hip-hop, reggae, bluegrass, classical, new wave, blues, grunge, progressive rock and even disco. In short, you might say I've been around. But I digress. I'm not just in love with rock, I'm pissed.

What's really grinding my gears? I'm getting the sense that youngun's in their post-college years think I'm an old fart who couldn't possibly understand what's cool, cutting edge and worth supporting in today's rock music scene. Take the conversation I had today with a group of mid-20s editors that work with me at a publishing company. In talking with them today, I brought up my fondness for Muse, a shatteringly brilliant band whose music I've recently come to admire. I got a blank look (and veiled resentment, as though I was peeking behind a forbidden door). Just to see whether I was imagining things, I tossed out mentions of Yellowcard -- another new fave -- Velvet Revolver and Saliva, three bands whose power-guitar riffs and primal energy give me a tremendous kick. I got an awkward pause in the conversation, again, avoiding eye contact, a bit of embarassment.

Now, the acts I mentioned aren't obscure indie bands -- all have major record deals, and Muse, my special favorite, is currently on a US/European tour -- so nobody could accuse me of namedropping to prove that I was all cool and and that. Still, my gut feeling was that I was tiptoeing into culturally sensitive territory just by talking these bands up. And it gave me a headache. OK, I live in the suburbs, have two children and work in a white collar job, but I'm not too white, suburban or maternal to rock on.

So it makes me wonder. Do these folks think a love of today's bands -- be they sweet and sensitive like Coldplay and Death Cab for Cutie or rich and dark like Disturbed or Linkin Park -- is their exclusive social property ? (Hell, I thought the idea that rock and roll was rebellious died in the Elvis years). Do hip young guys like my buddies at the publishing house feel that a 40-something mom is too dorky to take in what they have to say? Or do they just find middle age itself embarassing, and want to distance the rock world from the tarnish of agimg? I admit that few of us burn to hear the music our mom loves, unless of course your mom is Cher.

You know, I'm not sure, but ultimately, I don't really care. I like what I like, and there's an indie rock chick in me who'll never die. If I'm 98 years old and too senile to know what's happening, play Queen's "We Will Rock You" and I'll come to life.

So here's my message to any 25 year old who finds me at a club screaming "Go!" and banging my head like a maniac during the chorus of Saliva's "Ladies and Gentlemen." I'm not pretending, I'm not out of touch, and I do rock. Just get that straight. And if you want to talk about some good music, be my guest. I promise not to bore you, OK?