We seem to be prisoners of our respective ages of innocence. Those halcyon days of blissful ignorance; more possibilities then, more magic then. And art associated with these ‘ages of innocence’ we hold in high regard because oftentimes it is the only thing that remains ‘true’ after the moments fade. We get older, world weary, fatter, slower; ‘wisdom’ murders our ignorance-fueled optimism—we change while ‘it’ stays the same. Like a defiant anchor in time.

Interestingly, we have this awesome time travel/nostalgia porn machine called YouTube where we can call up songs, music videos, cartoons, film clips, et cetera with tremendous ease. All we need are a few keywords and within seconds we’re staring at the past through the jaded eyes of the present, blissfully ignorant to the fact that RIGHT NOW is somebody else’s ‘age of innocence.’ How ironic.

A lot of ‘my age versus your age‘ music debates reference work that was introduced to us via mainstream channels (radio, record labels, TV, magazines, etc.); so the debate is really about which era’s media corporations had better taste. Many of us were not participants in the movements that spawned the music we now embrace as our own; we were simply eager consumers waiting for a record exec to deliver HIS opinion of a subculture’s most palatable expression to our radios, TVs and stores. Nothin’ new about this though. The Catholic Church—one of the biggest media conglomerates of its age—brought us artists like Michelangelo. Oh, and Mike even had a beef!

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