When you are 46 years old, the opportunities to relive your youth become more and more rare. There will always be baseball games and endless Star Wars movies to share with your kids... but what about reliving your 20s?
Actually, maybe that is a terrible idea. I still think it was a freaking miracle that I made it out of my 20s the first time. Is it really a good idea to try and go back?
Proving that you are never too old to make bad decisions, I decided to give it a try this past weekend.
The Prophets of Rage:
Tim Commerford, Chuck D, B-Real, Tom Morello, (drummer Brad Wilk and DJ Lord)
This past Thursday, I flew out to visit my best friend from college. He happened to have an extra ticket for The Prophets of Rage at the legendary 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. (Extra tickets is a key trait in earning the title of "best friend").
If you have no idea who The Prophets of Rage are, don't feel bad. I would say 99% of the world have no clue who they are. They are a band who caters to a very narrow demographic comprised of the angry teenage children of rap, and metal/ industrial music fans... and rap, and metal/industrial music fans who still think they are angry teenagers.
I clearly fall into that later category. By the way, when I mentioned those three genres, notice I used the word "and" instead of "or". Perhaps this helpful diagram will help you to understand.
The Prophets of Rage are a "super group" comprised of Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine), Chuck D (Public Enemy) and B-Real (Cypress Hill). They are absolutely incredible! If I were to list the top ten shows I have ever seen, Prophets of Rage would undoubtedly occupy the top two spots on that list. I can't think of another band I would fly to another city to see. They did not disappoint.
Combined age of these 5 is 248.
I love all three of the bands who have joined forces to form this Voltron-esque creation of aggressive, loud and angry perfection. At the show this past week, they played songs from all three of their original bands as well as several original songs as this amazing combination.
If you'd like a clickable version of this setlist with links, check this out.
Ok but how about reliving my youth? Is standing around listening to other old guys perform really reliving my youth? Not exactly, but I came as close as I could.
No-one can ever really "relive" their youth. So many factors collide at one perfect point to create those unforgettable memories of your 20s (one factor being consuming just enough cheap beer to allow you to still remember the good times many years later). But you can always give it the "old college try"!
Proof that these were not taken by a professional photographer who knows how to frame a shot.
If I were truly trying to relive my youth, I would have been the first one in the pit* determined to receive the gift of a concussion or torn ligament (both of which I was "lucky" enough to accept while slam dancing in my 20s). But even I am not concussed enough to try that at this frail age... plus I have that back condition from helping my jack-ass (actually the nicest guy I know) uncle move a pile of bricks. So I did what older guys did for me when I was an idiotic 22 year old: I stood on the outside of the pit and made sure no one got trampled either inside or outside of the pit.
Although I still enjoy the music, listening to it as a full fledged adult just isn't the same. Here's an example, just a little sample...
One of my favorite songs of all time is "Killing in the Name" by Rage Against the Machine. The most memorable part of the song is a 45 second refrain during which the leader singer, Zach de la Rocha, repeatedly screams, "F*** you! I won't do what you tell me!" When I was in my early 20s, I screamed along... and really thought I meant it. I was a rebel. I was an idealist. I was going to change the world without ever "selling out" and "doing what 'you' tell me."
I hate when you tries to tell me what to do. I don't even know who "you" is.
By the way, who was "you"? I have no idea. But I do know "you" was trying to tell me what to do and I certainly wasn't going to do whatever it was he was telling me. I also had no idea what the "what" meant. Perhaps the "what" was bow down to fascists? But "what" could have also meant "look both ways before crossing the street" or "rewind your VHS tapes before returning them" or "call your mom on her birthday" or "prevent forest fires". Regardless, that bastard "you" was telling me "what" to do. So even if it meant I got hit by a car, racked up outrageous Blockbuster fees, offended my mom on her birthday, or burned down a forest preserve I was not going to "do what you tell me".
Things are a bit different now. When 46 year old me heard the song the other night, I had to fill in a few words in order for the song to make sense in my current situation. Here's what I came up with...
"F*** you! I won't do what you tell me... unless you offer me a reasonable salary, excellent health care benefits, a retirement account, and a significant amount of time off to spend with my lovely wife and two children.
F*** you! I won't do what you tell me... unless you offer me a reasonable salary, excellent health care benefits, a retirement account, and a significant amount of time off to spend with my lovely wife and two children.
F*** you! I won't do what you tell me... unless you offer me a reasonable salary, excellent health care benefits, a retirement account, and a significant amount of time off to spend with my lovely wife and two children."
F *** you! I won't do what you tell me... unless you offer me a reasonable salary, excellent health care benefits, a retirement account, and a significant amount of time off to spend with my lovely wife and two children.
Never mind. It's not the same. You can't relive your youth.
That seems like a pretty nice place to tie a bow on this post. But wait. I am 46... and I have become really sappy in my old age. Even though I can't really relive my youth, I had a great time pretending. In addition, I got to witness some young people living theirs for the first time.
One particular group of teenagers caught my attention. The four of them reminded me of my friends and I when we were around 19. (They clearly still believed the original words from "Killing in the Name"). After the opening act finished playing, I leaned over to the group and told them that 25 years ago, I was just like them. I explained that those 25 years passed by in the blink of an eye and no matter how hard they try, they can't relive any of them. Finally, I informed them that they were about to see the greatest show they may ever see in their lives. I suggested that they take pictures, write or make a video about it so when they are old like me, they can remember the fun they had with their buddies... and the weird old guy who preached to them like the ghost from Christmas Future right before Tom Morello hit his first ground shaking chord.
The four of them yelled something, high-fived me, and headed toward the pit.
Uh oh. Did I just become "you" and told them "what" to do?
I am so old.
Before you go, show us which part of your body hurts the most right now.
Oh lower back. Me too!
Images: All of these totally unprofessional photos were taken by me on my iPhone except for this one.
*For those of you who have lived normal lives, "the pit" is the area where people slam dance at a concert.