Gender

for a good part of my life i’ve had trouble with the past, at least my own. it was uncomfortable to sit with, to remember, to make sense of. however, music has been the notable exception. even therein this feels fraught when i start to think about reunion shows and tours which continue to arise with an alarming frequency as bands and albums i grew up with push their 30th anniversaries (in some cases more). at varying points, i felt like these reunion shows were ridiculous. i didn’t full-on object from the standpoint that a band would be “cashing in” well after the fact. internally, though, i felt sheepish: was i trying to live in the past yet again? was i refusing to move on? such questions really prevented me from exploring these ways to reconnect to an earlier time and place.

what tipped the scales, however, was the decision to see The Doobie Brothers about a year and a half ago. it was a ridiculous decision to go see them in a huge outdoor amphitheater in november in the pacific northwest. right then and there is when i decided i could truly no longer judge others for doing so, and it was enough to let my own resistance or boundaries crumble to the ground. that begat more options - like going to Unwound and Tara Jane O’Neil in Los Angeles while already out there for Numero Twenty, which was a full on festival for gen x/millenial cuspers to relive their 20s, and perhaps even their teens. today, i’m fresh out of seeing Kicking Giant (plus TJO and Sara Lund from Unwound) last night to the point where the ink is still drying.

or at least makes us deal with abjection in new ways.