Monday, November 10, 2008

AC/DC looking like it's time for the home

I'm sorry, maybe they can still rock the walls down, but this is an embarrassment to rock n roll. AC/DC looks like they escaped from a nursing home. What's with the Little Lord Falteroy outfit? I know it's his signature costume, but somebody tell Angus Young, I don't know what's going on in your mind, but we are going to put you in a home if you keep this up.

My God, Tina Turner is older than them, and look at her. That's hot. It ain't pretty watching people grow old, particularly when they try to insist they aren't. You gota make some changes, some adjustments. Old guys can rock, but this is all getting pretty sad if you ask me. Rock musicians are all looking like a sad collection of aging queens, cadavers, or nutbags. Like dancing bears in the circus, their fur starting to rub off in places.

Years and years and years ago I went to a Beach Boys concert in Las Vegas. They were the featured act at a big computer conference I was there for. And I never felt more like putting a gun to my head than I did then. All these boring white people chugging in their seats to Little Deuce Coup and Surfer Girl and all that Sloop John B stuff. I love the music, I do. But man, watching those people go back in time is like watching muskrat love. It's just belongs behind closed doors, if you ask me.

I've never liked nostalgia in any form. Family reunions. Class reunions--(God no, not those! Especially those.) Old college roommates sitting around, reminiscing. Middle-aged men thick in the waist sitting on bar stools bragging about their high school basketball/baseball/football exploits as if they happened just yesterday. So sad.

I like to live in the moment. Now. I want to know what you did today, not ten, fifteen, twenty years ago. The past is the past. It's done and done.

No comments:

Web Analytics