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Scenesters: Then And Now

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Most editorials about “kids today” typically take the tack that things were better in the old days.

This isn’t one of those editorials.

Instead I’m going to marvel at the advantages the Internet age has presented to culture vultures worldwide.

None of these observations are new, novel, or earth shaking, but I find myself thinking about them on a regular basis.

I can’t even say that I’m jealous of kids today, since I benefit from pretty much all of these changes.

Except of course when I’m telling my kids about what listening to music and watching videos was like when I was young, and they look at me with blank, uncomprehending gazes.

Back in my youth, it took a lot more time, labor, effort and money to be a music scenester.

We didn’t necessarily have to walk through three feet of snow, uphill, both ways, for music (although that was definitely true walking to some live gigs in January), but it wasn’t as easy to acquire as it is today.

In the 80s and early 90s, if you wanted an esoteric record from a faraway land you had to special order it from your local record store, if you could get it at all. It might take six weeks, and cost you $25 or more.

Today of course, every genre of musical act from every country on earth can be found online, either for free, or for a nominal cost. But usually free.

Polish pop tunes? Check.

The 90s Electronica that she’s covering? Check.

1980s-era German Darkwave? Check.

Psychedelic Cambodian surf rock? Check.

And of course sharing music back then was a lot more labor intensive: hours spent crafting mixed tapes to swap amongst ourselves, duping and re-duping them again and again.

Not to mention actual manual labor: if you were a DJ, just hauling your milk crates full of vinyl in and out of gigs was a workout.

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Also, buzz didn’t travel as fast back then as it does now. While there were plenty of small acts that I got to see perform small gigs before they made it big, there were always some that I missed. I think it was around 1992 or so that I balked at paying fifteen bucks (which at the time was a lot for a gig) to see some band I’d never heard of called “Green Day.”

I have no more profound point to make in these reminiscences beyond the fact that for musicophiles, it’s a great time to be alive.

 

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