Little C: Don't Call It Nostalgia
Readers, I've noticed a trend in how my friends and I talk lately. A phrase gets thrown around a lot especially in term of the media and art we consume. It always starts with something that's either been around for a long time or that was around when we were much younger. "My 14/15/16 year old self would love that..." I'm guilty of using it, even on this blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it lately because of a concert I went to, and I've come to the conclusion that most of the time that's not what we mean. Let me 'splain.
The first night that me and CT and the gang were in Denver we went to a concert at Red Rocks. It's this venue built into the mountains outside Denver and while it's this iconic part of the city, I'd never been. It happened that the day we got in to town one of my old school favorite bands was playing there so we snagged some tickets and headed up the mountain so that I could bask in some Taking Back Sunday tunes and dance in an embarrassing and over-joyous way. I concert hard folks.
As is his way, in between songs front-man and newly discovered CT man-crush, Adam Lazzara, stopped to essentially preach at a crowd of his followers. He talked about the reputation that the band has acquired as a "nostalgia act" and then called the whole term bullshit. He said something that has been haunting me ever since. "I was there when you had your first kiss. I was there when you fell in love and swore it was forever and then I was there a few months later when that love went up in flames. I was there when you did or didn't go to college. You and I have been through that together."
He's right. I fell in love with Taking Back Sunday when I was 13ish and I've never really let them go. They've factored into the soundtrack of my life for all this time. Some albums have been better than others, but that band has been a constant for a decade plus. And suddenly saying that "my 16 year old self" was thrilled to hear that they had a new album coming out was a lie. My 26 year old self, which is partially comprised of my 16 year old self is thrilled. All of me is excited. And the more I thought about it the more I realize the flaw in the logic.
Listen, there are things we love as kids that don't hold up. Shows that send us as adults cringing and changing the channel or songs that we roll our eyes at. But we've gotten into this habit of excusing everything that we like as children or teenagers as something we cling to in the name of nostalgia. But that's a dirty lie and it's a disservice to that media. We are going to have to come to a point where we come to terms with the fact that damnit, we loved this cartoon or that band or this movie because we love them. We've allowed them to become part of our identity not just as children but as adults. It may no longer be the most prominent part of us, or a part we are proud enough to show to everyone but to call it nostalgia diminishes the impact that it had. It cuts away the part of ourselves that we owe to these people, these artists, and says "No, I've moved past this."
But have you? Moved on I mean. I haven't. I sang loudly to every song that TBS sang that I knew the words to. Even the ones whose lyrics I don't feel as deeply as I used to. And somewhere there is footage of me dancing like a maniac. I'm not that same 16 year old anymore, but the 26 year old I am owes that weird messed up kid a huge debt. I am where a I am and who I am because of who she was and the things she loved. And at the very least I owe her the ability to hold my head high and love some of the things she loved with the same pride and passion.
I'm going to leave you with one of my favorite quotes from Welcome to Nightvale (a podcast that is as bizarre as it is wonderful) because it fits vaguely into the discussion and because I love to think about it "Here is the truth of nostalgia. We don't feel is for who we were but who we weren't. We feel it for all the possibilities that were open to us, but that we didn't take." Maybe the first step to getting rid of false nostalgia is admitting that who we really were is still a part of who we are.
Happy memories,
Little C
The first night that me and CT and the gang were in Denver we went to a concert at Red Rocks. It's this venue built into the mountains outside Denver and while it's this iconic part of the city, I'd never been. It happened that the day we got in to town one of my old school favorite bands was playing there so we snagged some tickets and headed up the mountain so that I could bask in some Taking Back Sunday tunes and dance in an embarrassing and over-joyous way. I concert hard folks.
As is his way, in between songs front-man and newly discovered CT man-crush, Adam Lazzara, stopped to essentially preach at a crowd of his followers. He talked about the reputation that the band has acquired as a "nostalgia act" and then called the whole term bullshit. He said something that has been haunting me ever since. "I was there when you had your first kiss. I was there when you fell in love and swore it was forever and then I was there a few months later when that love went up in flames. I was there when you did or didn't go to college. You and I have been through that together."
Actual photos of me at 13 been destroyed. I'm 17 in this photo
He's right. I fell in love with Taking Back Sunday when I was 13ish and I've never really let them go. They've factored into the soundtrack of my life for all this time. Some albums have been better than others, but that band has been a constant for a decade plus. And suddenly saying that "my 16 year old self" was thrilled to hear that they had a new album coming out was a lie. My 26 year old self, which is partially comprised of my 16 year old self is thrilled. All of me is excited. And the more I thought about it the more I realize the flaw in the logic.
Listen, there are things we love as kids that don't hold up. Shows that send us as adults cringing and changing the channel or songs that we roll our eyes at. But we've gotten into this habit of excusing everything that we like as children or teenagers as something we cling to in the name of nostalgia. But that's a dirty lie and it's a disservice to that media. We are going to have to come to a point where we come to terms with the fact that damnit, we loved this cartoon or that band or this movie because we love them. We've allowed them to become part of our identity not just as children but as adults. It may no longer be the most prominent part of us, or a part we are proud enough to show to everyone but to call it nostalgia diminishes the impact that it had. It cuts away the part of ourselves that we owe to these people, these artists, and says "No, I've moved past this."
He's the only part of those movies worth remembering
But have you? Moved on I mean. I haven't. I sang loudly to every song that TBS sang that I knew the words to. Even the ones whose lyrics I don't feel as deeply as I used to. And somewhere there is footage of me dancing like a maniac. I'm not that same 16 year old anymore, but the 26 year old I am owes that weird messed up kid a huge debt. I am where a I am and who I am because of who she was and the things she loved. And at the very least I owe her the ability to hold my head high and love some of the things she loved with the same pride and passion.
I'm going to leave you with one of my favorite quotes from Welcome to Nightvale (a podcast that is as bizarre as it is wonderful) because it fits vaguely into the discussion and because I love to think about it "Here is the truth of nostalgia. We don't feel is for who we were but who we weren't. We feel it for all the possibilities that were open to us, but that we didn't take." Maybe the first step to getting rid of false nostalgia is admitting that who we really were is still a part of who we are.
Happy memories,
Little C
Comments
Post a Comment