This is my generation, This is my generation, baby

History as we know it began in 1966. Maybe I should elaborate. in 1966, Congress passed the National Historic Preservation Act, setting up the National Register of Historic Places. In doing so, it ushered in a wave of history which had no equivalent as best I know: a wave of modern history. On that original list was Frank Lloyd Wright's Robie House, now a Chicago landmark. His Dana-Thomas house in Springfield became a museum in 1981. In upstate NY, Martin van Buren's house became a historic site in 1974. Nearby Olana, the home of Hudson River school painter Frederick Church, beat it to the punch by eight years; it was purchased by NY state in 1966 (my wife was an historical interpreter there at one time). Because of these things, pop music now often sucks. Ok, I should probably elaborate a bit more.

This shift in the late sixties and on until the present day marked a growing awareness of the historical nature of things in their own lifetimes. No longer are the houses and possessions of famous people routinely sold; now they are either preserved or collected. Literally every loose piece of music memorabilia created in the past few decades either has or will end up on the wall of a Hard Rock cafe. History has not always been as rapid, nor as reverent. The Elgin marbles are named after the British Earl who stole them from the Parthenon and brought them to England, or at least so we would suggest today. At the time, no one seemed to care very much. In the modern day, we have greatly increased the definition of what can be considered historical, in no small way because we can easily archive a great deal more of it than before, both actual artifacts and their visual representations (photos. home videos, audio recordings, etc.)

What happens to a generation brought up with such a fluid sense of history? The evidence seems to suggest that it starts to question its own place in the great canon. This is a theme of the postmodern literature which developed during this period and on to the modern day, and it is increasingly represented in popular society. Just as those growing up in the 1980's looked back to the 50's and 60's (my elementary or middle school definitely had a sock hop one year), so did the children of the 90's look back on the 70's and 80's. One obvious effect: recent history becomes capital-H History more rapidly than time itself passes. By the 1990's history was beginning to condense, and the process is now just about complete. VH1 aired "I love the 80's" in 2001, and "I love the 90's" in 2004. At this rate, "I love 2009" will first be shown in 2007 or 2008. As a devoted Sportscenter watcher, I can safely say that any list of "The top ten anything of all time" will inevitably be full of crap, since the list will include 5 items from the 2000's, 3 from the 90's, and no more than two from the entire past history of sports. Whereas Trivial Pursuit once reached back for decades in its questions, the new 25th anniversary edition sees no need to acknowledge that anything preceded the 70's.

The children of the 80's and 90's are more consciously self-aware than any previous generation. As a result, they (or perhaps I should say we) are highly self-absorbed. One obvious result has been widely noted: adults of my generation (and slightly older) have never been willing to give up their childhoods, because they see no need to give up fun just because previous generations were willing to make this compromise. My fellow Gen-X-ers watch the Cartoon Network (Adult Swim is specifically aimed at us, in fact), we still play video games, and even those of us who have taken on the roles of grown-ups still cling doggedly to our youthful sides in a way that was previously considered somewhat unseemly.

Well then, what happens when a generation of adults who still act kinda like children raises a new generation of children? Obviously, said children think of themselves more like adults (because they are more like adults in that adults are more like them). After all, pre-teens these days play on the same gaming systems as their parents, have the same iPods and cell phones, watch the same TV stations, etc. Of course, these preternaturally self-aware children (let's define them by birth dates after 1982, as some have done) think of themselves as adults with adult rights, honors and privileges, even though they only have the responsibilities of children (or more properly, the lack thereof). They also have a ridiculously heightened sense of their own importance in the grand scheme of things. What happens as a result? First of all, they become whiny punks, as the wife and I have learned from watching the Real World: Denver. Every goddamn thing is either the biggest crisis ever (I sprained my ankle! No one has ever felt so much pain in their lives!) or some great accomplishment (I climbed a hill to 10,000 feet that weekend outings of 14 and 15-year olds do on a regular basis as part of outward bound. This is the greatest accomplishment in my life [actual quote!]). Good Lord I hate Gen-Y sometimes (Kids these days!). Many of them think they are entitled to everything, but see no need to work for what they want. I realize these statements are properly limited to the middle class and upwards, but they are the ones with whom I'm familiar, and they are certainly the ones that the media typically focuses upon.

Finally, to get to my main point, what happens when these inexperienced whippersnappers, with no sense of history or empathy for others, but with a rather ridiculously high opinion of themselves, look to purchase music? I t turns out that they buy crap. They go for stupid American Idol-style verbal gymnastics because it's ostentatious, even though singing that way conveys almost no emotion whatsoever! Not every AI contestant is so cursed. From last season, Taylor Hicks can convey emotion (and actually won), whereas runner-up Katherine McPhee could easily be replaced by a machine given the lack of humanity in her voice. What's more, the subjects of too many songs suck. In the country genre, you have a streak of redneck triumphalism that is no end of annoying, especially given the total lack of down-troddenness of both the singers (who are millionaires) and the audience (middle class white people in America is not such a horrible demographic to find oneself in last time I checked). In the R&B world, you have a more personal sense of triumphalism in all the bling-bling stylings. What gets lost in the shuffle is any sense of true struggle, pain, or even emotion, things music can be very good at. That is why the National Historical Preservation Act of 1966, Cell Phones, Gen Y, and the Cartoon Network have destroyed pop music. Now, if you excuse me, I have to chase some kids off my lawn and watch a rerun of Murder She Wrote or 60 Minutes.