The staples of an average millennial high-schooler’s bedroom: a skateboard propped up against the wall, a closet full of Hurley, and a Tom DeLonge Signature Strat in the corner. The fact that most of us can relate isn’t an accidental coincidence. Pop-punk reigned king of the airwaves during the late-90s/early-2000s. While various sub-genres such as midwest emo and shoe gaze had already been around for a while, nobody could’ve really predicted the rise of simple four-powerchord choruses with catchy hooks. Thanks to a plethora of the era’s bands and record labels—most notably blink-182 and Drive-Thru Records, respectively—a ceaseless wave of wide-eyed dreamers invested in the scene with utmost sincerity. And so the story went that with the sound came the image and finally, the characteristics of any pop-punker the world over: wearing one’s heart on their sleeve, being overly emotional, and having a very stylized flair for the dramatic. The romanticized idea of “soulmates” wasn’t a new one and certainly not unique to any genre of music. It was, however, deeply embedded within the sentimental lyrics like an on-demand cookie-cutter. High school sweethearts were essentially doomed for inevitable heartbreak that they could then nurse with their favorite songs on repeat. This isn’t a criticism. I myself was a frontline pusher of the aesthetics in every way with scraped knees from failed kick flips and calloused fingertips from constant “What’s My Age Again?” riffing to match. I embodied the look every chance I could and while it never really did much for me in return, it did make me feel part of something bigger than myself. I suppose the same could be said for nearly all counterculture movements. The ultimate consequences to this lifestyle weren’t just a bunch of nautical star tattoos and a colorful wardrobe thanks to local PacSuns everywhere. It created a generation of excessively softened hearts. Those who would jump at the sudden sight of a failed relationship. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with wanting things to work out with a loved one. But the reality is that it often doesn’t when you’re still in the midsts of adolescent dreaming. And if it’s one thing we all eventually learn along the way toward adulthood is that there is always someone else to give our hearts to. The sea is big, the fish are plentiful. That’s one thing they don’t teach in the school of pop-punk: a goodbye is not the end of the world. Now in my 30s and having a new perspective on all-things-love, what are my lasting thoughts of it all? I can safely say that it was well worth it. Not just for the sense of belonging that it brought or the memorable concerts or even the self-made punk songs, but for the way that if one wasn’t around during that very specific time, they wouldn’t have those very specific memories. The oversized Discmans stuffed into our front pockets may’ve been uncomfortable, but the peeling back of a new CD’s sticker more than made up for it. Mostly though, those who lived through the era will always remember the subtle innocence of it all. That’s something that can’t be replaced and for that, I’m forever grateful to have experienced it.
Oftentimes in life, there are moments which present us with two separate but equally difficult choices. And what could be more excruciatingly difficult than having to choose between love and success? Aside from the random single played through store speakers, or inside friends’ cars, I’ve never actively sought out or searched for a Taylor Swift song. I have almost zero knowledge of her career’s history or what came out when and who it was aimed at or why. But I recently stumbled upon a pretty good song. A really good song, actually. “Midnight Rain.” Not only is it easy to listen to, but it has just enough buildup that it almost feels like it wants to erupt into a last-chorus finale, even though it never does. No matter, it’s catchy as hell and just what one would expect from someone with as bright a star as hers. My point isn’t to sell you on an already established icon, but to delve into the dilemma that is at the crux of the song’s chorus: “He was sunshine, I was midnight rain / He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain / He wanted a bride, I was making my own name / Chasing that fame / He stayed the same, All of me changed like midnight” My question is: what would you do personally? Would you go after the emotionally stable, comfortable, and even predictable hometown life? Or would you chase your lifelong dreams (assuming that they differed enough to where you couldn't have both)? Of course, there are pros and cons to both paths, but does it really depend on the journey or is it all about the outcome? Toward life’s end, I imagine we all look back and think about what we did, how we would’ve done it differently, and where the perfect balance between regret and acceptance is. Some are perfectly happy to have become grandmothers and grandfathers with a knowledge of future generations to come, while others want to know that they’re able to enjoy their last season on this earth in comfort and that they accomplished what had always been placed within their hearts. Neither of these is the right or wrong answer. I suppose it all just depends on your personal goals. I honestly don’t know the backstory to this song other than what I can make out from its lyrics alone. But if it’s to be taken at face value, then it’s a pretty heartbreaking story with a substantial silver lining. She may’ve lost the love, but she won the world. In all honesty, this article comes from someone who used to put a lot of pressure on romantic love and where it all leads to, only to have that opinion shift into a reality where nothing matters more than success and living out deeply-held dreams. I suppose that’s what comes with wasting too much of one’s life. “Your time here is short,” my inner-self consistently whispers out to me. So I side with Taylor on this one. Some may look down at this and ask how it’s possible to go from writing about Young Thug to Taylor Swift in the blink of an eye, but it’s fairly simple when there’s actually something to write about. This being an easy example of putting some type of philosophical spin on pop culture, as well as a fun one. Finally, to be sure, some are so incredibly blessed that they’re able to have both paths merge in the middle at some point. But to most, I ask…, love or success? Because no matter what the answer ultimately is, Swift reassures us that: “I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted.” Choose wisely, grasshopper.
Trap music isn’t my number one forte, but my playlists are filled with enough of it to know something special when I hear it. Cue Young Thug. The Atlanta rapper is currently the talk of the town due to recent RICO charges that I won’t get into here. But whichever side of the legal discussion one falls on, there is no debate when it comes to his artistic vision and talent. The flow is impeccable. As is the delivery, cadence, and overall confidence. A GQ article once compared Thug’s performance to a Jackson Pollock painting. The comparison isn’t too far fetched. His lyrical style is one that encourages different interpretations and sometimes, it’s nearly impossible to pin down exactly what’s being said. But that again, is brilliant.
My hopes are that this doesn’t come across as blatant promotion, but instead, as some friendly advice to check out a great artist. There are certainly hallmarks of the genre present, but aside from those over-analyzed topics from the general public, there is a rawness and even slight vulnerability to his style. From showcasing his unique fashion sense to proudly putting his dreams on display, he exposes himself to scrutiny and constant criticism. To be sure, none of it has stopped him. A final point to make is his dedication to his roots. Indeed, so much so that his music label is filled with lifelong friends that others in his position may’ve all but forgotten about. It’s commendable no matter your musical tastes. What’s heartbreaking about his brilliance is the fact that it’s now being overshadowed by things out of his initial purpose. Legal charges with wrongfully-attributed characteristics—a narrative which he never intended on writing. I imagine many people’s hopes are that years from now, music aficionados looking back to our time will remember Thug for the right reasons. Like his interpretive lyrics, there is always at least two sides to every story. With his trial still months away from completion, there remains a glimmer of hope that all of this will be put in the past at some point, and that he will reclaim his status as a cultural icon and be remembered for what it’s all about at the end of the day: his music. For newcomers, I’d suggest the following introductory songs:First verse of "Speed Racer"Third verse of "Hercules"The entirety of "Givenchy"
