How I lost my edge
“You don’t know what you really want”
I didn’t ever think I would be able put a date on it. I was secretly hoping it would never happen. But I have to come to the truth. I’ve lost my edge.
It starts with the realization that it is something that actually happens to people.
As a kid, you realize that old people have not always been old. You make yourself the promise that you’ll never grow old.
As a young adult, you stumble into a copy of Trout Mask Replica in your dad’s vinyl collection and realize he hasn’t been listening to FM radio their whole life. You make yourself the promise that, this time, you won’t let it happen to you.
And then, of course, it does happen to you.
You go from doing monthly compilations of your favorite B-sides to making a playlist out of Rolling Stone’s year-end list.
18 of your top 20 bands last year were already around 10 years ago.
You only see movies after they’ve been Oscar-nominated.
You only buy books that have won some kind of prize (or were written more than 20 years ago).
The only albums you buy are vinyls of your favorite album from the last decade.
People still ask you for advice but you have absolutely no idea what to tell them anymore.
You start listening to the same songs over and over again (hello, cowgirl!).
Surprisingly, few people will tell you the real reason for this change. Some will tell you that the new stuff is just not that good anymore, which is bullshit.
The only real explanation is that staying on the edge takes time. Time to listen, read and compare all that stuff. And you just somehow happen to have less of it than you used to.
It’s a bit frustrating for sure. Like realizing that you can’t eat like you used to. But do you really need to eat two pizzas by yourself anyway?
There’s one thing I’m excited about though: the next phase.
After spending years looking down your tastes because they’re too mainstream, I can’t wait to look them down because they’re too new.
I’m sure I’ll be a great old schmuck.