Last week, we found out via an interview that Weezer are toying with the idea of doing a whole tour playing only their classic first albums, the self-titled “Blue” album and Pinkerton. As someone who was infatuated with those two albums during my formative years, this struck me as an outstanding idea. Only later did it strike me how weird it is for a band that’s still recording new music to essentially admit publicly that there’s a whole load of people who’d prefer just the old stuff.
Not that this is an entirely new idea; the Pixies did a whole tour just playing their classic album Doolittle. I recently saw a show by the reunited Pavement, part of a tour that singer Stephen Malkmus said flat out in an interview was all about playing the songs everyone wanted to hear. And I ate it up. That show was incredible.
Of course, the fact that these sort of shows are now appealing so strongly to me does point out that I have officially become part of a new age bracket in some definable form. Not unlike the people in Chuck Klosterman’s essay on people who take classic-rock-themed cruise vacations.
My theory is that I have crossed over an apex, which everyone will probably do some day, just not necessarily at the same point in their lives. Before this apex we are hungry for newness, as much as possible, so we can sort through it and pick out what we like — the things we’ll grow to love and use to define who we are. During this stage we wrap ourselves in cultural artifacts that match the personality we imagine for ourselves. Manly men (football players/fans who know what a nickel package is) or sensitive artists (people who can quote poetry or Smiths lyrics), we all soak up our identity from stimulus in the world. And whatever we immerse ourselves in during this phase will always be a part of us. This was the phase during which I loved Weezer, for example. I don’t just like that music, I have a relationship with it.
The apex is the point we essentially figure out who we are. Sure, this might happen at different points for different people (going to college surely extends it a few years, for example), and even for different aspects of life (our career apex may not coincide with our personality apex, for example), but eventually things get more or less decided. After that apex, we know well enough who we are, and well enough what we like, and just want to get on with enjoying it. The need to keep endlessly searching for something or trying to prove ourselves to the world starts to diminish.
This isn’t meant to be depressing, as if I just realized I’ve peaked and it’s all downhill from here. (Since I haven’t had calculus in a while, I’m probably using the wrong term or drawing a bad mental graph. Should asymptotes be involved?) What I really mean is, at least with regards to music, I’m on the other side of urgency. New bands come along that I love, and that’s great. Old bands release music and maybe it’s not the best, but now I have enough of a frame of reference to know that. I grew up with some great music, and I’ll always love hearing those songs no matter what. But my relationship with any of it — all of it — has changed, because I’m not desperate to fill the empty vessel of me-ness anymore.
Nostalgia is an acceptable indulgence as long as it doesn’t erase all critical capacity; it’s okay to have a soft spot for fond memories, as long as we’re still open to creating new ones. I’ll totally see Weezer play all their old music, just like I’ll go to FYF Fest next month and see a bunch of cool up-and-coming bands. But it’s comforting to know I’m past the point where I’ll have to pretend to like all of them.
As someone who has been experiencing quite a bit of nostalgia lately, I really enjoyed this. Spot on I think.
that’s especially frightening since you’re even younger than i am. pretty soon 19 year olds will be looking back at the good old days of middle school.