The music we grew up on will last forever for us to enjoy and get nostalgic over, but the circumstances that created it are long, long, long gone. You can’t paint ’90s hip-hop portraits without lead paint – and lead-has been abated from everything at this point. Lead made people crazy in the ‘70s and ‘80s, when these artists were reared. Nobody’s that fuckin’ crazy anymore and times done changed, so “bringing it back” to the “Golden Era,” whether it means the mid-’80s, early ’90s or mid-’90s to you, would be impossible, extremely trite and come off as a Canal Street replica of what it was. As much as most folks my age tend to hate Drake, wondering why a kid in junior high would listen to him and sport a faux hawk is undeniably stupid and really no different than adults wondering why we got our initials shaved in our asymmetrical haircuts in 1990. They bitched. They moaned. They talked about how they never fucked up their hair as kids despite family photo albums full of evidence dotted with conks and raggedy-ass Jheri curls. Maybe today’s music and the world that inspires it is really getting progressively worse. But even if that’s the case, I had to learn that it won’t affect the music I create, listen to or write about for those niche-ass lists I post. It won’t affect how I pay taxes, eat, sleep or shit, so who gives a single, solitary fuck? What I choose to ignore was not made for me anyway.
culture politics science history race technology education society satire media language food sports economics