My FoCo Fellowship

Roughly a year and a half ago, I moved to Fort Collins, Colorado, to write.

It was a circuitous route to that moment in a rather topsy-turvy couple of years. In the summer of 2022 I went to Santa Fe for a week to do a weeklong conference at St. John's College (the Summer Classics program -- highly recommended, by the way.), and I hoped to begin working on a book idea I had, The Punk on Walden Pond, that I've been mentioning over the past year. It started with a short magazine piece for PopMatters and then became a conference paper delivered at the MPCA conference. Well, I did a fair bit of writing, but also just soaked up the arts scene in Santa Fe, ... and at the end of the summer I began looking for another writing opportunity, specifically a fellowship year.

So, the year of 2022-23 became kind of interesting when I discovered a couple fellowships and actually made it rather far in the process. Ultimately, while on Spring Break in Boston in March of '23, I learned the fellowship wasn't going to happen -- an opportunity that would have required an "early-ish" retirement from teaching. So, I rescinded my retirement plans, but the bug of an idea had been planted. And, then, on a little beach on the southern tip of Paros in the Mediterranean at a small cafe watching the sunset and sipping a fair amount of wine, I told my wife I wanted to wrap up my teaching career and pursue my book idea at an MFA program in Creative Writing. 

Needless to say, the 2023-24 school year was an interesting one that ultimately did not end with my admission to an MFA program, but did conclude with my retirement from teaching after thirty-two years in the classroom and school administration. Interestingly, about that time, I had begun a rather unexpected but engaging freelance music writing gig for Westword Magazine, Denver's alt-weekly. With no firm plans for our next step, my wife and I made a fortuitous trip to Fort Collins, CO, for FoCoMX, the "biggest little music festival in America," and that pretty much set our course. 

In FoCo, home to a thriving music scene and also the location of Colorado State University, I embarked on what I've been calling "my FoCo Fellowship," a year or so to immerse myself in my writing and my art and hopefully produce something worthwhile as part of what I deemed "The Walden Punk Project." The fall of '24 was actually a bit precarious and discombobulated for a variety of reasons, and I didn't really get a handle on what I was doing here. But after a warm and rejuvenating winter break with my family, I returned to CSU's Morgan library in early January (January 6 to be exact), and I pursued my writing and art project in earnest. 

Now, I am happy to announce that I have produced a decent first draft of a book about Henry Thoreau and the punk rock ethos, "viewing Thoreau through a punk lens while exploring punk's Thoreauvian roots." I am hoping to spend the spring putting a few chapters out there as journal or magazine articles and then begin pitching publishers on a book proposal. And, I will begin looking for my next gig on the East Coast where my wife and I will be moving in the summer of 2026. 

It's been a kind of wild and ultimately wonderful year during my "fellowship" in the cool, quirky, and quaint town of Fort Collins, and I'll be looking forward to whatever comes next.

Happy New Year. 

Todd Siler -- a Polymath Artist's new Denver Exhibit

Art knows no bounds, the saying goes. And apparently neither does an American multimedia artist, author, educator, and inventor Todd Siler. The artist and creative mind extraordinaire who was the first person to ever earn a PhD in visual arts from MIT had not been on my radar until recently when Denver freelance arts writer Ray Rinaldi profiled his new exhibit at southeast Denver's Museum of the Outdoor Arts:

On a purely visual level — looking at color, form, texture, materials — Todd Siler’s paintings, currently on display at the Museum of Outdoor Arts, are an astonishing array of eye-pleasing artworks. That is a good way to start talking about them — before you begin thinking more deeply about what they mean.

They are hyper-colorful, rendered in expressive reds, golds, greens and pinks. Siler lets these exaggerated hues crash into, over and around each other. Sometimes they appear like murky clouds caught in a brilliant sunset. At other times, they look like fire that has been captured mid-flame.

At their boldest, they take on an explosive aura, as if they are documenting the scene of two planets colliding in some mythical stratosphere and releasing all of the light and force that come with major celestial events. Yes, they have that much energy.

Siler's creativity and contributions to the arts, sciences, and of course, education truly know no bounds, and we are all the better for it.

Pop-Punk is not Dead -- Long Live Pop-Punk

So, Green Day is obviously punk. But what about Blink-182?

The issue and the discussion about punk vs pop-punk often has to do with the sound, the commercial accessibility, and the overall ethos of the musicians and scene in which the band operates. It all gets a bit pissy at times. I love the punk music and punk ethos of Husker Du and Bad Religion, and I have also always been a big fan of Blink-182. So, I really enjoyed a piece I read the other day from an excellent Substack newsletter Punk N' Coffee:

"Pop Punk Not Dead: the problem of fitting into the history of punk rock" 

Pop punk always seemed to enter the history of punk through a side door, when the discussion was already underway and someone had set the rules of the debate. It was never a genre that arrived with a solemn proclamation or an aesthetic designed to command respect. For years it was read as a lesser version, a commercial shortcut, an unnecessary deviation, as if accessibility were incompatible with any form of depth. That reading, however, says less about pop punk than about punk’s recurring need to define itself through opposition. Because if this subgenre made anything clear, it was that the youthful experience is not always expressed as organized confrontation or frontal collision. Sometimes it manifests as persistent confusion, as poorly articulated frustration, as the feeling of failing at something that isn’t even fully understood. 

Pop Culture is Culture, ... Isn't It?

Have we reached peak culture? Or did that ship sail long ago?

I've always been a pop culture hound, from consuming 1970s cartoons and sitcoms, amidst the rise of the blockbuster film, ie. Star Wars, to my career as an English teacher where I taught Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice as the original rom-com and introduced Henry Thoreau through the music and ethos of punk rock. So, to be alive in 2025, you might think I'd be as happy as a pig in slop amidst the constant saturation of popular culture. But I do wonder whether it's all just too much these days.

What is popular? And what is culture? And what is pop culture in a quarter of the way into the twenty-first century?

Jocelyn Novek, writing for the Associate Press takes a look back at the year 2025 and ponders "a ring for Taylor, an ill-timed kiss-cam, and something called 6-7":

Dictionaries define things. It’s their job. So when dictionary.com pronounced “6-7” as their 2025 word of the year, you’d think they would have, well, defined it. But no. “We’re all still trying to figure out exactly what it means,” they told us of this year’s “linguistic time capsule.”

But that’s just how pop culture works, isn’t it? Who’s to explain why parents alone in their cars were suddenly singing “up up up” from that “KPop Demon Hunters?” song? Or why, in the Venn diagram of pop culture and zoology, it was the capybara that emerged victorious and beloved? Goodbye, Moo Deng. You’re adorable, but so 2024.

Despite our new obsessions, though, some things remained constant — by which we mean Taylor Swift and Beyoncé, of course. It seems like every year gets bigger for Swift. But in 2025, she put a bow — or ring — on it with Travis Kelce, announcing “your English teacher and your gym teacher are getting married.” As for Beyoncé, the musical goddess finally won that best album Grammy she long deserved — and, on tour, introduced a new force: her daughter, Blue Ivy.

So from the inexplicable to the familiar, here’s our annual, highly selective journey down pop culture memory lane:

Dave Berry & "The Year in Review"

Ah, yes ... the post holiday lull of late December. 

The days between Christmas Eve and New Years Day occupy a strange landscape of time in the middle of nowhere. And, it's these times that bring about reflection and contemplation. How are things? How've we been? Where are we going? I was struck by the blunt honesty of Nicholas Kristoff's annual "Best Year Yet Column," which he puts on hold for a year while he writes a column "In Which I Try to Cheer You Up." 

And he doesn't do a great job, ... which is sort of his point.

Which brings us to Dave Berry. Sometimes to the best thing to do is simply shake our heads and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Berry, the humorist and whimsical social critic, has been rolling out his "Year in Review" for as long as I can recall reading the paper, and it is one of the most satisfying of traditions. Long writing for the Miami Herald and syndicated in the Washington Post, Berry's work was occasionally challenging to track down. At one time, his column appeared in most papers I read from the St. Louis Post Dispatch to the Chicago Tribune to the Denver Post. 

Now, in another sign of the times that I've written about before, he is making the column available on his Substack Newsletter. And it appears it's available for all readers, not just subscribers. So, if you're sitting around the living room with a cinnamon roll and a hot cup of coffee, sit back and enjoy:

Dave Barry's Year in Review 2025. 

The biggest story of 2025, to judge from the number of people who sent it to me, was this raccoon:

In case you somehow missed this story: In late November, this raccoon got into a state liquor store in Ashland, Va., by falling though the ceiling. Once inside, the raccoon ransacked the store, leaving a trail of broken bottles...

...and apparently consuming a large quantity of booze before passing out in the bathroom next to the toilet. That’s where the raccoon was found by a store employee, who called an animal-control officer, who took it to an animal shelter. When the raccoon finally sobered up, it was hired as director of security by the Louvre Museum.

No, seriously, it was released into the wild. But the photo went majorly viral, and the raccoon became a huge celebrity. We, the American people, LOVE this raccoon. And I think I know why: After the year we’ve been through, we can relate to it. We have had way too much of 2025; it has left us, as a nation, lying face-down on the floor of despair, between the wastebasket of stupidity and the commode of broken dreams.

How did we get here? Perhaps it will help (although I doubt it) if we look back on the events of this insane year, starting with...

JANUARY:

Sidney Awards -- Reading the world in Long Form Magazine Writing

I have always been a sucker for a good magazine piece, and I still can't get on a plane without a physical copy of a magazine. My traditional choices include Vanity Fair, GQ, Esquire, and other culture and lifestyle publications. However, I also appreciate the true long form ideas pieces in online magazines that have managed to survive the retraction of the industry. This morning's annual New York Times column from David Brooks that he titles "The Sidney Awards" got me thinking and tracking down some of these articles. Brooks invented the award to honor long form magazine writing:

Every year, I give out extremely nonlucrative prizes, in honor of the philosopher Sidney Hook, celebrating some of the best nonfiction essays of the year, especially the ones published in medium-size and small magazines. I figure this is a good time to take a step back from the Trump circus and read some broader reflections on life. The Sidneys are here to help.

Brooks is a humanities geek and classical liberal who voraciously consumes ideas-based writing and cultural journalism. Thus he regularly checks in with all sorts of journals and news magazines -- everything from Texas Monthly to Aeon Magazine. And that got me thinking about the more esoteric and less mainstream commercial magazine sites I check in with occasionally. Sites like Quillette which fashions itself as the place where "Free Thought Lives." 

Thinking about long form magazine writing reminded me of a quote from Generation X writer Douglas Coupland who started his writing career doing pieces for magazines like Wired. Coupland is an artist fascinated with contemporary pop culture, and he once reflected that he secretly wished to fall into a coma for a year, so that when he woke up, he would have a year's worth of pop culture writing to immerse himself in. It was such a quirky view, but honestly it was one I could relate to in some ways. 

However, Coupland realized in the mid-90s that his wish had actually come to fruition, as there was an almost daily deluge of new writing, more than anyone could read in a lifetime. These days, as I've noted in a couple other posts, the world of long form writing is more accessible than ever with the advent of Substack newsletters. And there are numerous online magazines that are finding ways to survive and even thrive in the saturated world of media. 

I enjoy checking in with sites such as:

The Drift: a Magazine of Culture, Politics, & Literature.

A Quiet Christmas Morning ...

"The closest thing to Heaven on this planet anywhere is a quiet Christmas morning in the Colorado snow."

No compelling links or intriguing stories or big thoughts or deep opinions on societal issues this morning. Just a quiet Christmas morning, our last in Colorado after twenty-three years. The kids aren't home this year for Christmas morning, though our daughter flies in tomorrow, and our son will be here next week for several days together over New Year's and the end of 2025.

Last night, we spent a warm, wonderful Christmas Eve out, enjoying the vibrant scene of Old Town in Fort Collins. A stroll around the shops open for some last minute shopping, a cozy visit to the local speakeasy -- Social -- with exquisite cocktails, fun banter about bourbon, and a simple festive spirit, and then a nostalgic trip to the local arcade, playing Skee-Ball, Ms. Pac-Man, and plenty of pinball.

And, this morning, though there's no Colorado snow down here on the Front Range this year, we are enjoying our "quiet Christmas morning," sipping coffee with eggnog and chilling by the fireplace.

Millennials hit Middle Age ... kind of ... and Boomers get old

 I am a believer in generations and generational tendencies. And, so I found it rather amusing that when I opened the Denver Post this morning, I found an article on the oldest Baby Boomers turning 80 this year. And that article followed a piece in the New York Times yesterday from a thirtysomething writer lamenting how she and her fellow Millennials "are officially old now." --  Opinion | Millennials Are Officially Old Now - The New York Times. 

And, the Gen Xers just sit in the middle watching the two groups gripe.

Being part of a generation means at its most basic the idea of shared experience from a similar or common point on life's spectrum. Experiencing something defining like, say the Challenger Disaster in 1986, is a different when it hits at age 16, as opposed to 46, or even 86. And Gen X writer Douglas Coupland was always insistent that the "Generation X" designation wasn't about a specific age group, as much as it was about a "class of people" who by choice live outside of the norm. This concept -- which was rooted in a sort of contemporary bohemia -- came from the book Class by Paul Fussell.

So, the Millennials are getting older:

The moment crystallized a sentiment many millennials have been feeling recently: that 2025 is the year we officially got old. This reality has been creeping up for a while now, but it’s become impossible to deny it any longer. The youngest of our cohort are about to turn 30, and the oldest are pushing 45, meaning that we’re all now inhabitants of the life phase that the psychologist Clare Mehta has called “established adulthood,” a demanding period that can involve juggling careers while caring for kids and aging parents.

Our generational avatars are doing corny, middle-aged things: Lena Dunham wrote a “Why I Broke Up With New York” essay; Taylor Swift got engaged and wrote a song about her fiancé’s reliable penis; Ryan from “The O.C.” made a documentary about the dangers of crypto. If one of our generation’s athletes is still dominant, he’s considered a medical marvel. We are old enough to experience a type of millennial entropy in which our icons collapse in on themselves. (See: Justin Trudeau and Katy Perry’s relationship.) We were the generation that first embraced mining every aspect of our inner lives for content, but we don’t even enjoy posting on social media anymore. Thanks to medical miracles like Botox and Mounjaro (and Solidcore reformers), millennials are still physically hot, but culturally, our goings-on provoke less fascination, less hand-wringing, less societal anxiety. When they talk about young people, they aren’t talking about us anymore.

And the Boomers are just flat out old:

The oldest baby boomers — once the vanguard of an American youth that revolutionized U.S. culture and politics — turn 80 in 2026. The generation that twirled the first plastic hula hoops and dressed up the first Barbie dolls, embraced the TV age, blissed out at Woodstock and protested the Vietnam War — the cohort that didn’t trust anyone over age 30 — now is contributing to the overall aging of America.
Boomers becoming octogenarians in 2026 include actor Henry Winkler and baseball Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson, singers Cher and Dolly Parton and presidents Donald Trump, George W. Bush and Bill Clinton.

And, there are, of course, many economic and sociological considerations related to the generations and their individual needs. For example, the latest projections on Social Security are that it won't be able to meet its payouts in 2036. And that is suddenly seeming pretty close. All the while, the economy appears to be just rolling along with all its perplexing contradictions. 

American Girls are Turning 40

My college-age daughter caught the American Girl wave somewhere around its peak or shortly thereafter, and it was more of accident, as she inherited a couple dolls from the older sister of her older brother's best friend (that's not as convoluted as it sounds). And while we never signed on to the type of hysteria that led to elaborate tea parties with the dolls and friends at the local "American Girl Boutique" -- yes, we had one in suburban Denver -- we certainly had a bit of a run with the biggest doll craze since Barbie and, of course, "Cabbage Patch" dolls in the 80s. 

And, I must admit, I was a bit intrigued, even impressed with the "story behind the craze," especially because there was always a story. Behind a doll with a theme written on the box, each doll came with a fully developed narrative in a book. And, amusingly, my son being the voracious reader he was actually read all the American Girl doll books. Truly, the stories weren't mere fluff, and at least for a time, for some, the stories and themes of the dolls were intended to impart decent lessons, history, even culture.

So, I was quite intrigued to read that American Girl is turning forty this year. A couple of culture writers for the WashPost recently delved into the history with the story:  "American Girls are Turning 40: Just like the Millennials Who Loved Them":

Our foreheads aren’t as smooth as theirs, and our eyes crinkle at the edges, but here, in this raspberry-hued temple to girlhood that is the American Girl flagship in New York, we feel 10 years old, too. All of the beautiful dresses, the miniature accessories, the luscious hair to brush and braid: American Girlhood is middle-aged, but it is also eternal.

When we were 10, American Girl and its dolls taught us about loyalty, bravery and moxie. Samantha. Felicity. Molly. Addy. Kirsten. Josefina. If you are of a certain age, just those names will conjure their stories of Colonial Williamsburg, the Underground Railroad and the Minnesota frontier.

“When American Girl was founded, it was really to put girls in the center of the story with characters their own age,” says Jamie Cygielman, global head of dolls at Mattel, which acquired the company in 1998. At the time, the brand was a revelation. Baby dolls made girls into mothers. Barbies were aspirational, fashionable adults. But American Girls were exactly our age, living out their lives in some of the most pivotal moments in history — and doing so with courage, conviction and adorable, collectible accessories.

We’ve been thinking about those girls recently, as a few generational factors have coalesced. Millennial mothers on the cusp of 40 now have children old enough to age into the brand, and those who preserved their dolls are handing them down to their children. Meanwhile, their own childhood nostalgia is being sold as tiny artifacts, thanks to the addition of “historical” dolls from 1999 — the late 1900s, if you wish.

Jim Beam Bourbon/Whiskey Shuttering Production for 2026

Ok, now it's getting personal ... and a matter of American pride.

The trade war and the imposition of new tariffs have come for one of the most distinctly American of products -- as homegrown as the blues, jazz, and rock-n-roll -- bourbon. Bourbon is a uniquely American spirit in that it can only be made within the boundaries of the United States, much like sparkling white wine can only be called champagne if it comes from that specific wine growing region of France. And the world thirsts for American bourbon, most specifically the country of Canada. However, in a shocking news Jim Beam Distillery has announced it will cease new production of bourbon and whiskey for the entirety of 2026:

The maker of Jim Beam bourbon whiskey will halt production at its main site in Kentucky for all of 2026. The company said in a statement it would close its distillery in Clermont until it took the “opportunity to invest in site enhancements”.

“We are always assessing production levels to best meet consumer demand and recently met with our team to discuss our volumes for 2026,” it said.

It comes as whiskey distillers in the US face uncertainty around Donald Trump’s trade tariffs, as well as declining rates of alcohol consumption. In October, the Kentucky Distillers’ Association (KDA) trade body said there was a record amount of bourbon in warehouses across the state – more than 16m barrels.

One of the primary reasons for the halt in production is the Canadian market. Granted, other factors are contributing as well, mainly an overall decrease in alcohol consumption nationally and worldwide. 

"After celebrating a record year for U.S. spirits exports in 2024, this new data is very troubling for U.S. distillers,” DISCUS CEO Chris Swonge said in a press release. “Persistent trade tensions are having an immediate and adverse effect on U.S. spirits exports. There’s a growing concern that our international consumers are increasingly opting for domestically produced spirits or imports from countries other than the U.S., signaling a shift away from our great American spirits brands.” Sales are down, and that’s very bad news for one of the most iconic American bourbon brands, Jim Beam. The 230-year-old brand has decided to close down its distillery, which has been in regular operation since prohibition

• Trump’s trade war has particularly angered Canada, which has led to many Canadians boycotting American products.Swonger said nowhere is this shift more pronounced than in Canada, where U.S. spirits exports plummeted 85%, falling below $10 million in the second quarter of 2025.
• U.S. spirits sales in Canada declined 68% in April 2025, whereas sales of Canadian and other imported spirits rose around 3.6% each.
• Canada removed its retaliatory tariff on U.S. spirits on Sept. 1, but the majority of Provinces continue to ban American spirits from their shelves.
• Canada remains the only key trading partner to retaliate against U.S. spirits.

Hanukkah -- Eight Crazy Nights

This evening is the final night of Hannukah. 

So, in the words of Adam Sandler, "If you're the only kid in town without a Christmas tree, here's [two lists] of people who are Jewish just like you and me."

Green Day is Punk -- come at me

In reading the book, Smash! Green Day, The Offspring, Bad Religion, NOFX, and the '90s Punk Explosion by Ian Winwood, I was struck by the significance of 1994 in the history of punk, and I was reminded of just how animated people can be by discussions of punk. 

For example, when I posted about Green Day and punk, a friend quickly scoffed, "Pop-punk, maybe." That qualifier was clearly meant to demean and undercut any credibility of the band is being somehow inanthentic and truly "punk." In that regard, the slight seemed to be about the melodic, radio-friendly, and pop-based tone to the music. So, I countered: is Green Day's sound any more melodic than the Ramones? Or the Sex Pistols? Or the Clash? I'd argue not.

The primary criticism of a punk band not being authentically punk is rooted in the idea of "selling out." And that criticism is primarily based on the decision to sign with a major record label, which Green Day did in 1993 when they left Livermore's Lookout Records, where they recorded two albums, for Reprise Records whose release of Dookie went on to sell more than 20 million copies.

However, Green Day's roots in coming up the DIY way, cutting its teeth in the historic Gilman Street, discounts the petty criticism of major label signing. Obviously, the seminal punk bands like the Ramones, Sex Pistols, Clash, and more all worked with and released on major labels. And while the indie label scene wasn't as developed then, it still existed. And, of course, I think the definitive position on that issue comes from NOFX singer and founder of Fat Wreck Chords Fat Mike who asserts:

"Green Day didn't sell out. None of those bands did. They were playing their style of music, and it finally got popular. There was no selling out. Selling out is when you change your style to play music that people might like."

Finally, I would argue that Green Day put down one of the most politically charged punk rock manifestos when it released the pivotal 2000's protest LP American Idiot, which is nothing short of a scathing indictment of the hollow actions of the W Bush administration.

 

Can GenX Save the World?

Oh, Generation X. The forgotten middle child of the 20th century. Sandwiched between the Boomers and their offspring the Millennials, alongside the rise of Gen Z (a Generation X derivative, by the way), it has almost become a sport to note how many times GenX is overlooked in generational sociological writing, news, advertising, and more. 

And, yet, despite potentially being the first generation to not over attain the White House (oh, Paul Ryan, what happened to you?), Generation X is now in prime middle age, accounting for majorities in Congress and in state-level politics, yet yielding far fewer CEO's and name brand business leaders. That's the theme of a recent piece in the Washington Post from opinion writer Theo Johnson who suggests, that, for the first time since they were the first latch-key kids, "Gen Xers Have the Keys to the Kingdom Again":

For Gen X, few things signaled coming of age like a house key. It was a symbol of after-school autonomy beyond the watchful eyes of authority figures. This newfound independence was as much a gift as it was a necessity; the simultaneous rise of two-income households and divorce rates in the 1970s and ’80s meant empty homes on weekday afternoons, turning a generation of children into latchkey kids.

In our formative years, Gen Xers such as myself learned to handle matters on our own and became experts in tending to our parents’ things. Freedom came with responsibilities — the chores and homework, the watching over siblings and the not breaking stuff. But for a little part of each weekday, we had the keys to the kingdom.

Now middle-aged, this generation is increasingly in charge of a country in which just 17 percent of Americans have faith in government. More than 80 percent of Americans believe democracy is in crisis or facing serious challenges. The sensible step for a nation feeling this way is to undertake fundamental reforms and improve the government’s design and structure, which generations before us have done and the majority of Americans support. Instead, there’s a crippling deference to authority, the status quo and the long-standing structures of democracy, which are behaving like partisan outposts. The country is in dire need of reform and principled leadership. Is Gen X up to the job?

As you may know, I've written about Generation X numerous times in terms of its place in the world. And, Amanda Fortini recently published an impressive, well-received, and widely circulated New York Times feature on the sandwich generation, suggesting Gen X might just be "the next greatest generation": 

WHEN YOU CONSIDER all the impressive work Generation X has made, it’s funny that one of the most persistent stereotypes about them is that they’re slackers — an idea perpetuated by the films “Slacker” (1990) and “Dazed and Confused” (1993), both written and directed by Richard Linklater (who has directed more than two dozen feature films, including this year’s “Blue Moon” and “Nouvelle Vague”), as well as other movies in the couch potato genre, like “Clerks,” “Singles,” “Swingers,” “Wayne’s World” and “The Big Lebowski.” Somewhere along the way, cynicism and ironic detachment became conflated with laziness. I’d also argue that Gen X was secretly ambitious for fear of the worst accusation of all: selling out. Rosie Perez, 61, whose debut role was in “Do the Right Thing,” sums up Gen X for me like this: “We didn’t really have the economics to get into certain nightclubs or restaurants or whatever. So we created our own vibe. There’s nothing slackerish about that. You know what I’m saying? And it’s, like, still relevant to this day.”

In our current moment, when artistic compromise no longer carries the slightest stigma, Gen X has some wisdom to impart about how to preserve one’s principles, even when times are hard. Because for a while now, the present has looked a lot like the recent past: Everything is commercialized, it’s impossible to find a job, rents are astronomical and reality kind of bites. But you can always make art. In romanticizing the past — a time not so connected, distracted, corporate and slick, not so bought in to easy answers — perhaps we’re longing for a world more hospitable to its creation.

And, as a Gen X writer and reader, I might also point interested parties to a relevant book from Jeff Gordinier, published quite a few years back: 

X Saves the World: How Generation X Got the Shaft but Can Still Keep Everything from Sucking 

In this simultaneously hilarious and incisive "manifesto for a generation that's never had much use for manifestos," Gordinier suggests that for the first time since the "Smells Like Teen Spirit"breakthrough of the early 1990s, Gen X has what it takes to rescue American culture from a state of collapse. Over the past twenty years, the so-called "slackers"have irrevocably changed countless elements of our culture-from the way we watch movies to the way we make sense of a cracked political process to the way the whole world does business.

Artist Residency in a Penthouse Apartment of Denver's RiNo

Artists are finding it increasingly difficult to afford living and studio spaces in an increasingly large number of metro areas. A recent piece in the New York Times spotlighted the decreasing number of artists living and working in the city.

So, how about living for free in gorgeous penthouse apartment in the thriving art scene of the RiNo (River North) neighborhood in Denver? That's the opportunity with the "Residency at FLORA" program, recently spotlighted in Denver's alt-weekly Westword: Artists Can Live in a RiNo Penthouse Through New Residency 

Denver’s River North Art District is packed with art and opportunities for creatives, but with rent for a RiNo apartment averaging $2,095, most artists can’t afford to live there.

But what if they could? Not in a $1,700-a-month, 300-square-foot studio with one window, but a luxury penthouse overlooking the Platte River? That sounds too good to be true, but it’s what one RiNo apartment building is offering through a new artist residency program.

The Residency at FLORA is described as “a living, breathing creative lab where chefs, designers, writers, filmmakers, musicians and artists are invited to produce, experiment and engage.” Sounds very RiNo. Applications are being accepted through January 16; any artist selected will be awarded a furnished penthouse, a dedicated project space, a $500 stipend and collaboration opportunities with other local artists and businesses.

“It is thrilling to see this creative residency take flight at FLORA — it aligns with RiNo Art District’s mission by centering creatives expansively, and is sure to contribute mightily to the vibrancy of the district,” says new RiNo Art District Executive Director Daisy Fodness-McGowan.

Jane Austen -- 250 Years Later

What more can be said about the impact and influence of Jane Austen?

In the world of English literature, the woman from Hampshire, England, who wrote just six novels in her brief and largely uneventful life at the dawn of the nineteenth century, must be considered one of the most significant writers of her time. However, as I noted in a post yesterday about the incredible cottage industry of Austen retellings, adaptations, derivatives, and cultural events, she is also one of the most significant writers of our time as well. 

Her novels have had an outsize influence in the centuries since her death. Not only are the books themselves beloved — as sharply observed portraits of British society, revolutionary narrative projects and deliciously satisfying romances — but the stories she created have so permeated culture that people around the world care deeply about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, even if they’ve never actually read “Pride and Prejudice.”

With her 250th birthday this year, the Austen Industrial Complex has kicked into high gear with festivals, parades, museum exhibits, concerts and all manner of merch, ranging from the classily apt to the flamboyantly absurd. The words “Jane mania” have been used; so has “exh-Aust-ion.”

How to capture this brief life, and the blazing impact that has spread across the globe in her wake? Without further ado: a mere sampling of the wealth, wonder and weirdness Austen has brought to our lives. After all, your semi-quincentennial doesn’t come around every day.

I have a few interesting personal connections to Jane. For one, one of my children is named after Austen, and I grew up in Alton, Illinois. What I didn't know until just a few years ago is that the Jane Austen House, which she wrote most of her novels in Alton, England. And, of course, as a long-time high school English teacher, Austen's Pride & Prejudice was a staple in my AP English curriculum. I used to introduce the 19th century novel of manners as one of the original romantic comedies.

Appropriated Novels -- What an Idea

Invention, creation, inspiration -- the fear of the blank page.

The writer -- especially the novelist and to some extent the playwright -- is tasked with the daunting job of creating something from nothing. But what if a writer simply starts with what's already been imagined and written, and then puts a unique spin on the original material? And what if the writer starts with widely known, even famous, literature that is now in the public domain? Well, that might just be the recipe for huge success. For example, I just purchased two fun re-tellings for the high school library where I work:  Pride & Prejudice & Zombies by Seth Graham-Smith and a lesser known but equally entertaining Jane Slayre from Sherri Browning.

The contemporary retelling or "classical adaptation" is a time-honored -- and occasionally quite lucrative -- tradition in literature, film, television, and theater. And the works of Jane Austen have become produced a full cottage industry of derivatives, extensions, and adaptations in the contemporary era. Whether it's the Jane Austen Mystery Series which extend the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy following the end of Pride & Prejudice or the more contemporary retelling of Austen's novel Emma in Amy Heckerling's incredibly successful film Clueless, it seems the work of Austen will literally never go out of style.

Two Bands Saved Punk in the 1980s

Almost from its inception, Punk was declared dead and over. 

The basic idea behind that early mortality and the surprising staying power post-mortem seems to mostly to do with the belief within the early scenes -- New York's Lower East Side and London -- that once punk was on the radar of the mainstream, it was no longer punk. Pivotal music writer Lester Bang felt this way, as did the pioneering punk band Crass which delivered the song "Punk is Dead" in 1978. Mark Perry, founder of the zine Sniffin Glue, argued punk died the minute the Clash signed to a major record deal.

While it all started for me with the Ramones, Clash and Sex Pistols in the early 1980s, past the date punk was declared dead, punk actually gained steam and became the counterculture that exists to this day with the second wave punk bands and scenes sprouting up across the United States and the world. From New York to Washington, DC to Los Angeles to the Bay Area, the spirit of punk -- grounded in the DIY attitude that "I can do that, too ... even better," -- invigorated the culture of punk, and it moved beyond anything the small crew of independent musicians and writers may have imagined in the mid-70s.  

Punk is an interesting phenomenon -- for something seemingly grounded in simplicity, it's actually quite a complex history discussion. And stories of punk history and scenes and culture and artists and the "punk ethos" are endlessly fascinating to me. With that in mind, I truly enjoyed this recent piece in Ultimate Guitar magazine that points to the pivotal role "two bands, two songwriters, and two labels" played in maintaining punk for what it was, is, and will become. Punk Survived Growing Pains in The '80s: But These Two Bands Are (Likely) Responsible for Saving the Genre | Ultimate Guitar

The rise and relatively quick near fall of punk is well documented in the genre's history. While early punk scenes in the UK, NYC, and LA flourished, they just as soon began to flicker, for a variety of reasons. In the UK, early leaders of the movement who had mainstream success, like The Clash and Sex Pistols, eventually fell apart, while across the Atlantic in NYC, a good chunk of the scene embraced the post-punk movement. Things went a little differently in LA, however, as I would argue the punk scene took a bigger hit, or had a higher fall from grace, than it did in either London or New York.

This is well documented, especially if you read my favorite band memoir, "Do What You Want," written by the whole Bad Religion crew. In Southern California, the scene had dried up, so to speak. Bands were shelved, broken up, and the general enthusiasm and energy from the early scene was replaced by rage, agitators, and anarchy. And then, Bad Religion released "Suffer."

"Suffer" was widely seen as the rebirth of SoCal punk and made waves across the national scene here in the US. But I'm not really here to talk about how good the music on that album is. I'm more interested in the infrastructure that would soon be built up by members of Bad Religion, namely guitarist/songwriter Brett Gurewitz. A big part of the Bad Religion story is Epitaph Records, founded by Gurewitz, but closely intertwined with the band's story. And you know what else is highly intertwined with Epitaph Records? Basically, all the punk rock that came after "Suffer."

As the band grew more successful, so too did the record label. Several bands were signed who emerged not only as commercial successes for the indie label, but as huge factors in the rise and continued development of punk in the late '80s, all the way through the 21st century. Bands who were signed included NOFX (more on them later), L7, Less Than Jake, The Offspring, The Vandals, Circle Jerks, Rancid, and Pennywise. Need I say more? The idea of a punk band and punk artist putting out other punk bands wasn't necessarily Gurewitz's original idea, but I'd argue he did it a whole lot better than Greg Ginn did with SST Records.

Jay Kelly is a Beautiful Movie

George Clooney is just sixty-four years old, but he has the old school Hollywood charm that has been the essence of the movie star myth since the days of Jimmy Stewart, Carey Grant, and others. And that "myth" has always been the fundamental romanticization of the lives of the glitterati. Clooney's most recent film - Jay Kelly, streaming now on Netflix - is a deceptively simple yet touchingly poignant look into that world.

The movie will, no doubt, garner numerous accolades and award nominations for Clooney, whose title character is an aging movie star just like himself facing the end of a career and a self-accounting for what sacrifices got him to where he is, and for Adam Sandler in a thoughtful and vulnerable role of the "manager" to a Hollywood star. Writer and director Noah Baumbach will almost certainly collect nominations and award for Best Original Screenplay.

The Unlikely Super Bowl Matchup You Want to See

I just want it noted for the record that on September 23, 2023, when Deion Sander's -- or "Coach Prime's" new CU Buffs football team was rolling to a great start, and then Bo Nix and the Oregon Duck's came to town and absolutely pasted the Colorado team 42-6 with Nix on the Duck's first drive drilling a 40+-yard touchdown pass to the corner of the end zone, I said, "The Denver Broncos should draft Bo Nix next year. I want Bo!"

And now, in one of the wonkiest years in recent NFL history, the Denver Broncos with their sophomore year QB are sitting atop the AFC West Conference with a tie-breaker lead over the New England Patriots for the number one seed while the dynastic Kansas City Chiefs are idling in third place with a sub-500 record at 6-7. And my bold prediction is the Broncos are going to the Super Bowl. And the ideal NFC opponent is another team dear to my heart, a team that has been waiting quite a while to get back on top -- The Chicago Bears.

I know, I know. Two teams with second-year quarterbacks and winning records but a a lot of close games, along with several holes in their offense and defense, amidst a league with a lot of teams like the Patriots and the Packers and the Lions and the Chargers ready to step up and take the crown. But a Denver-Chicago Super Bowl would be a heckuva game. 

Everyone is Using AI to "Create"

A recent op-ed in the Wall Street Journal suggests "When anyone can produce passable work, real talent becomes more readily apparent than ever." Thus, AI, rather than destroying or replacing human creativity, is actually a gift to the real creative people and innovators in society.

As Oscar contenders like “The Brutalist” deploy artificial intelligence to perfect foreign accents and AI-generated country tracks top the charts, anxiety is roiling the creative community. Fear mongers warn that AI will hollow out artistic expression, de-skill entire professions, and damage our capacity for original thought. It won’t. AI is ultimately a boon for creativity.

True, AI can finish work by itself without an artist, but that affects the volume of output more than the nature of human creativity. AI relieves humans not of creativity but of drudgery—the rote, time-consuming tasks that have always consumed more human energy than inspiration ever did. Artists have never defined themselves by their use of certain tools, but by what they do with them.

2025 was truly the year of AI, almost reminiscent of the date August 4, 1997 in The Terminator when Skynet, the artificial intelligence system that ultimately takes over the world, officially went online, kicking off the rapid march to machines' dominance over man. And, honestly, no one knows better the seeming instantaneous omnipresence of "everyone using AI" than teachers at nearly all levels, from elementary school to graduate programs. A quick scan of social media -- or "Teacher Twitter" -- will reveal all manner of requests, rants, and ramblings about how to address the use of AI. For writing teachers especially, it seems like a return to handwritten in-class assignments is one key response.

And, in terms of creativity, I would tend to agree with the Wall Street Journal article that when everyone is using AI to create, the landscape will take on such an obvious tech-induced/influenced style that the truly innovative and creative people will be able to stand out. As I noted in a piece on AI yesterday, I maintain that while humans were able to conceive of, envision, and create artificial intelligence, AI would never have been able to conceive of humans.

Time's "Person of the Year" is not AI, but almost

No matter how "intelligent" AI ever becomes, there is one key difference that will never change: Humans conceived of artificial intelligence, but AI could never conceive of humans.

That distinction is at the heart of this year's award for Time Magazine's "Person of the Year." The honor for 2025 -- the "person most significantly impact the news" -- has to be related to AI, which seems to have become instantly omnipresent this year. And so, Time has named the people behind AI for the award. The "person of the year" is a few key people -- The Architects of AI. 

 

It's honestly not that difficult to imagine why these innovators are the obvious choice:

Since 1801, American leaders have gathered in Washington, D.C., to attend the Inauguration of a new President. It is a day of great tradition, one that often brings together the most powerful people in the country. Prominent at Donald Trump’s return to office in January were the chiefs of U.S. technology companies, which long have led the world. But something unexpected was happening offstage: that same day, a little-known Chinese firm called DeepSeek released a new artificial-intelligence model that spooked markets and led to a rallying cry from Silicon Valley.

The next day, tech titans Sam Altman, Larry Ellison, and Masayoshi Son appeared at the White House with an announcement of their own. They pledged to invest up to $500 billion to build AI data centers around the U.S., calling the project Stargate. Those two days foretold the year to come: global competition, astounding innovation, massive sums of money, and the alchemizing forces of public and private interests.

This was the year when artificial intelligence’s full potential roared into view, and when it became clear that there will be no turning back or opting out. Whatever the question was, AI was the answer. We saw it accelerate medical research and productivity, and seem to make the impossible possible. It was hard to read or watch anything without being confronted with news about the rapid advancement of a technology and the people driving it. Those stories unleashed a million debates about how disruptive AI would be for our lives. No business leader could talk about the future without invoking the impact of this technological revolution. No parent or teacher could ignore how their teenager or student was using it.

Daily Pages & the Artist's Way

About a year and a half ago, I wrapped up a thirty-plus year career in public education with a plan to pursue writing and art and creativity full time. And following my heartfelt get-together with friends and colleagues from the school and English department where I worked, a colleague came into my office and gave me a wonderful parting gift. She is one of the creative writing teachers at the school, as well as being a writer herself, and she said it was time for her to pass on to me a gift given to her on her writing journey: The Artist's Way: a Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by Julia Cameron. 

For a writer and writing teacher, I was pleasantly surprised, both with the gift that has been a meaningful part of my journey, as well as the fact that I had never read nor really heard of this book before. The book is more than thirty years old now, and it has been a valuable contribution to the craft for so many people. I've been intrigued by the results of simply Googling the book, as so many writers have personal stories to share about their experience. Like this piece from Lauren Gonzales:

Eight summers ago, I found myself in a D.C. yoga studio sitting in a circle with several other women. No one was in a downward dog position, and hardly any of us were wearing stretchy pants. Any curious passerby might have assumed we were part of a support group of some kind, and in some ways, we were. We were a motley group of struggling creatives practicing The Artist's Way.

The Artist's Way is a 12-week course that helps people unlock their capacity for creativity — whether in art, at work, or in life. At its core, it's a great practice to access more delight, curiosity, and creative inquiry within your daily life. But for me, The Artist's Way grew to mean more than just a fun summer project or a tool to overcome writer's block. It helped me face my fears around trying new things, and gave me a better framework to live with the vulnerability and uncertainty that comes with life. I will gab about it to anyone who lets me in on their secret desires to pursue their artistic dream — be it tiny or grand.

One of the foundational aspects of the book, and one which people mention most frequently, is the simple practice that Cameron calls "the Morning Pages." The basic premise is grounded in two important aspects of the creative process -- clearing the mind and making a daily habit of production. Cameron's advice is to sit each morning before doing anything else and fill three full pages of handwritten reflection. I've appreciated this smooth explanation from Leah Lavelle of the Urban Wild Studio:

What are morning pages?

Imagine it is the early hours of the morning, you’ve just arisen and the world outside is still relatively calm and quiet. You pour a cup of coffee, and with a pen in hand and a blank page before you, you begin to write. Three pages of unfiltered thoughts, flowing freely from your mind onto the paper (or laptop). This is the essence of morning pages – a stream of consciousness daily ritual that holds the promise of self-awareness, and the potential for transformation and renewal.

In short, morning pages are (in the words of author Julia Cameron herself):

• Three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning
• *There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages* They are not high art. They are not even “writing”
• They are about anything and everything that crosses your mind– and they are for your eyes only
• Capture your cloud thoughts; can be whining, grumpy, petty. Can be cheerful, pleasant, enlightening
• Morning Pages provoke, clarify, comfort, cajole, prioritize and synchronize the day at hand
• Do not overthink Morning Pages: just put three pages of anything on the page...and then do three more pages tomorrow

What are the benefits of morning pages? Why is this practice so powerful? Again, in Julia Cameron’s words, morning pages help:

• Clear your mind
• Become acquainted with all the corners of your psyche
• Put your negative thoughts on the page so they aren’t floating around your consciousness during the day
• Meet your shadow and take it out for a cup of coffee
• Farewell to life as you knew it, and an intro to life as it’s going to be

Now, I will be honest in that I have tailed off the artist's way a bit since I began in the summer of 2024, and I don't even do the morning pages in the full expectation of the practice. However, I have continued the practice of daily writing reflection in the early morning, and it remains a meaningful part of my day and my creative practice.

Riot Grrrl Resurgence -- Cheap Perfume's new LP & Tour

If you're near Milwaukee, Chicago, or St. Louis, there is a Riot Grrrl wave heading your way this week. Cheap Perfume, the premier Colorado Fem-core band has a new album and are taking their unapologetically political music and their fierce live show on the road. 

Since Donald Trump took office and, among other things, bolstered the ICE budget, slashed funding for important social and cultural programs, and attempted to censure trans and nonbinary folks into erasure, many people have taken to the streets in dissent. Punk music remains an important, historic form of protest, so it’s fitting that Denver femme punk outfit Cheap Perfume is set to drop a timely new album later this year.

The band has already released singles “Woke Mind Virus” and “Down to Riot” to tease the forthcoming album, Didn’t Ask. Don’t Care, which drops on October 3 via Snappy Little Numbers. Vocalist Stephanie Byrne, vocalist-guitarist Jane No, bassist Geoff Brent and drummer David Grimm have always worn their anti-capitalist, anti-fascist and pro-women political stances on their sleeves, following in the abrasive tradition of riot grrrl punk bands like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile.

On the new songs, Cheap Perfume, which formed in 2015, has yet again sharpened its fast-paced, shout-heavy and guitar-forward brand of feminist punk, holding nothing back in its calls for change. “A lot of the content on our new album has to do with anti-capitalism,” No explains. “So we were just writing about anti-capitalism in general and anti-fascism, and, of course, they go hand in hand with the patriarchy.”

I first encountered this incredible band about three years ago when I caught a show at the 715 Club in Denver, and my mind was blown when lead singer Stephanie Byrd literally charged into the crowd from the opening bars and drum beats with a ferocity I hadn't seen in years. Yet, I was also charmed with the cool conversations I had with Byrd and guitarist Jane No before and after the show. I wrote about the band a couple times, including this piece about their first out-of-state tour. After that short tour which included a slot at the historic Gilman Street, the band also opened up a show for Bikini Kill on the band's 2025 tour, and I felt the logical continuation of the Riot Grrrl revolution BK had begun in the early 90s.

As anyone in Denver’s punk scene knows, a Cheap Perfume show is a sonic blast of guitar chords, big drums, quick and heavy bass, and scathingly sharp yet sardonically poetic messages of social justice and empowerment. It’s also a helluva lot of fun. That’s the appeal of a band that is, as it calls itself, “fun, foul-mouthed and unapologetic.”

Now fans outside of Colorado will get the chance to experience Cheap Perfume’s sound and attitude as the band embarks on its first-ever tour this month. The self-described “fem-core punk” group will join the Atlanta-based rockers of Sarah and the Safe Word (SASW) for a West Coast run starting on April 24 at the Nile Underground in Mesa, Arizona. Then Cheap Perfume will be back to its Denver stamping grounds on Sunday, May 5, for a victory lap at the hi-dive.

The news of a “first-ever tour” may come as a surprise to local music fans who know Cheap Perfume from shows up and down the Front Range, as well as festivals. Though the band has played regularly for years, “the farthest we’ve gone was Salt Lake City last year, for Mind the Gap Fest,” says guitarist/vocalist Jane No. The band has had many tour offers, but the members finally found a time that worked for everyone.

“We’ve been together since 2015,” No says, “and it’s weird, or I guess unusual, that we haven’t toured, but that’s mostly because we all have demanding day jobs.” Just because a band has a ton of streams on Spotify doesn’t mean that pays the bills. “Meanwhile,” No dryly observes, “the CEO is a billionaire.”

This band is making some seriously good music, and CP is not to be missed if you can catch the live show at Milwaukee's X-Ray Arcade, Chicago's Liar's Club, or the Heavy Anchor in StL.

Favorite Christmas Songs -- Beyond the Classics

My favorite Christmas song is a rather unorthodox one in that it's not one of the traditional songs like "White Christmas" or "Carol of the Bells." It is, instead, an alternative song from a favorite indie rock band -- "2000 Miles" from Chrissie Hynde & The Pretenders.

There is just something so poignantly beautiful about this Christmas song in its sense of pathos -- longing and nostalgia and warmth and hope. The story is actually quite beautiful -- it's a bit of an elegy for a lost friend. And, it reminds me of that, old friends. Whenever I hear this song, it takes me back to working in restaurant in my small town in middle America around the holidays. This was one of several alternative Christmas songs on the mix tape, and I have such memories of cleaning up at closing time and listening to these songs. Anyone who has worked in restaurants knows what I mean.

A few other favorites from that time that always move me, sometimes to nostalgic smiles and even a bit of misty eyes included "Colorado Christmas" from the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, "Do They Know It's Christmas" from Band Aid, "Christmastime" by Smashing Pumpkins, and a beautiful play on an old classic, "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy" by David Bowie & Bing Crosby.

 

Less Than Zero: A Gen X Christmas Movie

Well, it's time for the annual debate about what makes a movie a Christmas movie. The quintessential discussion for the past twenty years or so is whether Die Hard, the classic 1988 Bruce Willis thriller, is a Christmas movie. But I won't bother with that one -- I have another suggestion. Five years ago, I posted my own review about a classic Gen X Christmas movie. Less Than Zero, the 1987 Brat Pack film based on the novel from Bret Easton Ellis, is a perfect example of a non-traditional Christmas movie. Here are my thoughts:

Is Die Hard a Christmas movie? Does anyone really care?

What defines the “Christmas movie”? Does it have to be a feel good story like It’s a Wonderful Life, or can it just take place during the holiday season like Die Hard. Does it have to represent the holiday cheer featured in Hallmark commercials, or can it expose the cold, distant reality of authentic families during less-than-warm Christmas parties?

Thirty years ago, Clay came back to LA for Christmas, and the holiday movie was never the same. For Generation X, a group of people raised on disappointment, the cinematic version of Bret Easton Ellis’ novel Less Than Zero is a true Christmas movie exposing the hollow superficial excess of the holiday season and specifically the 1980s. A visually stunning film from cinematographer Edward Lachman, the movie captures and spotlights all the glitz of the holiday season, especially in Beverly Hills, while not looking away from the vacuous lack of substance behind the style, the holiday, and the state of the American family. Director Marek Kanievska created a haunting music video of a Christmas movie with film noir elements amidst the bright lights of holiday decorations.

Read the rest of the piece on Medium ...

Ideas Gurus

I've always been a nonfiction geek, and the type of research-based commercial nonfiction that took off in the early 2000s with books like Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point: How Little Things can Make a Big Difference has always been like catnip to me. Right at the turn of the century, it seemed like there was a hunger for "ideas" and accessible writing about the latest developments in science, psychology, economics, and other traditionally "dry" reading. Writers like Gladwell, Michael Lewis, Daniel Pink, and more began churning out book length explorations of the kind of stories that used to make great airplane reading in magazines like Wired, Fast Company, Forbes, The Atlantic and countless which took off during the 90s, a true heyday of magazine writing.

I always called the writers of these books the "Ideas Gurus," and their schtick was finding obscure information in research studies and distilling it down into accessible chunks of narrative-based nonfiction writing. And at that time, as the industry grew and publishers where looking for the next big nonfiction bestseller, scholars and academics and researchers who would have never considered themselves best-selling others, much less media personalities, began to crank out some seriously cool books. Stephen Dunbar and Steven Levitt's Freakonomics: a Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything immediately springs to mind.

Op-ed commentary writers like David Books also got into the game, making a nice living with books like Friedman's must-read blockbuster The World is Flat and Brooks' more niche but quirky cool Bobos in Paradise. And the one writer, other than Gladwell, who has ridden the commercial nonfiction wave to its greatest heights is Michael Lewis, the Princeton-educated English major who became a bond trader and then transitioned to a writing career with the Wall Street tell-all Liar's Poker: Rising Through the Wreckage on Wall Street. Several of Lewis' books have gone on to Hollywood stardom as well -- notably, The Blind Side, Moneyball, and The Big Short.

Some More Thoughts on Streaming

So, I shared my blog post about "Bandcamp not Spotify" with some friends who are in high finance and venture capital. And one of them really didn't like it. He is convinced that streaming is much better for all involved parties, especially him as a consumer who gets a nearly endless supply of practically free music on Spotify and AppleMusic. He is basically missing my point that if, as a fan, you really like a singer or band's music, you should support them more authentically by purchasing a digital product or even the physical form, for which the artist receives a much better payout.

Being a finance guy, and also someone under the age of forty, he can't understand why I can't agree that it's much better for the artist to have endless streaming fees for perpetuity, as opposed to the consumer buying the LP one time for $15.99 or the song (via the iTunes/Bandcamp model) for $0.99. He gets into all sort of finance theory terms talking about projection and .... blah, blah, blah. And I am unable to convince him that a band would rather have tens of thousands of fans buy a product and give them a large sum up front than to depend on millions of fans occasionally streaming the song for $0.0028 a listen over several years.

By the way, the artists and musicians I've heard from agree with my take, even as they acknowledge the reality of streaming and concede its benefits -- specifically the extended reach and exposure that wasn't possible before streaming. That said, we all know that while a million streams sounds impressive, that only earns the artist about $3000, and that would be divided among all band members. But, if a million or tens of millions of streams were instead the sale of ten to fifty thousand albums or CDs or digital downloads at $15, the artist would be earning hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The point is that the finance guys are not creators or producers. They don't make anything, so they can't really appreciate the value of the labor. And they like getting stuff cheap. And my original point is that if you really like an artist, you can support them by buying the product for real dollars, rather than just renting it for microscopic portions of a penny at a time.

Tip your servers, and pay your artists.

Gen X -- the Last Generation of Culture

The other day I noted that Gen Z's use of the word "bet" is the equivalent of Gen X using "word." When I said that, a colleague asked what the Millennial word was, and I glibly and somewhat sarcastically scoffed that Millennials had no word -- they just copied Gen X. That said, I think "word" remained the word for a while

With that in mind, I've noticed a strange uptick in news, or perhaps better said "commentary" on Generation X lately. Since 2025 began, there's been a steady stream of Gen X stories, features, lists, and more with an ironically heavy bit of nostalgia. The most recent one -- which I passed on to my Millennial colleague and a fellow Gen Xer who, because I work in a library and featured Coupland's pivotal novel Generation X: Tales from an Accelerated Culture, rolled her eyes and said she's never read and doesn't need a book to tell her who she is -- is an extensive and engaging piece from Gen X culture writer Amanda Fortini in the New York Times asking: "Is Generation X the Greatest Generation?"  

There’s a collective fascination with Generation X, for both good and ill, as told by numerous think pieces and memes that have begun proliferating like gremlins in recent years. Most of these memes are humblebrags created by Gen X-ers themselves, applauding our toughness and resilience, honed by benign parental neglect (“The official sports drink when I was a kid,” reads a caption over a child drinking from a garden hose), or celebrating our own coolness, an aura cultivated by pretending not to care (“Them: The world is falling apart! Gen X kids: Have you ever had a bologna potato chip sandwich?”). Many express nostalgia for the lost relics of a simpler time, like mixtapes, malls, daytime soap operas, the mentholated burn of Noxzema or the ritual Friday night rental of Blockbuster videos.

According to the articles, Gen X is either the last awesome generation, despite the fact that we keep such a low profile — or maybe precisely for that reason (Vogue: “What if the cool ones are actually those unbothered people that nobody talks about?”) — or the worst, which is not news to us since we’re so self-loathing (The New York Times: “Hate Gen X? Get in Line [Behind a Gen X-er]”). There are denunciations of Gen X for not being progressive enough, or at least not as progressive as millennials (according to Gallup, as of 2022, 44 percent of Gen X-ers identify as independents and tend to vote on candidates or issues rather than by party). And then there are the hand-wringers, who either express retroactive concern about our traumatic childhoods (The Wall Street Journal: “Is Gen X Nostalgia Just Trauma-Bonding?”) or lament our unfitness for jobs, our ill-fated careers and the fact that it seems unlikely we will ever have a true Gen X president — though, by the old measures, Barack Obama, born in 1961, qualifies. If you were to ask Gen X-ers about any of this, most would simply shrug.

As readers of this blog may know, I am obviously Generation X, and I am a Gen X writer, having published my Master's thesis on the novels of Douglas Coupland, and putting together a steady stream of Gen X commentary, including a popular piece on "Gen X Parenting."

Choose Bandcamp, not Spotifiy

If you really like a band, and you appreciate the music - the art - you should consider purchasing a digital download of the music on Bandcamp, rather than endlessly streaming it for free on Spotify. Bandcamp supports artists and enables them to earn money from the appreciation of their creativity, as opposed to Spotify and other streaming services which simply exploit the artists and the system, earning billions in fees while paying next-to-nothing for the product. 

Earlier this year, Swedish musician Bjork called out Spotify and streaming services, calling them "probably the worst thing that has happened to musicians." And as a music fan, an artist, a writer, and a consumer, I couldn't agree more. Snoop Dogg made a similar claim two summers ago during a panel at the Milken Institute. The music and culture icon who changed the game of hip-hop in the 90s went off script, and said "Can someone explain to me how you can have a billion streams and not get a million dollars? Cause that shit don't make sense to me."

Snoop and Bjork are, of course, speaking from a time when all musicians could sell an actual product like an album, a cassette, or a CD, and earn a nice living from the deal, even when record companies and producers took a significant cut. The creation of MP3 files and streaming -- beginning with Napster -- changed everything, and not for the better as far as the artist is concerned. However, Napster and streaming didn't ruin the possibility of earning a decent living as a musician at that point, and the visionary artist and businessman Steve Jobs had much to do with that.

iTunes was a brilliant innovation and a real game-changer, enabling music fans to purchase single songs as digital downloads for $.99. That was actually a win-win for the artist and the consumer. For, as anyone over the age of thirty recalls, there were times you liked a song or two from a new release, but didn't want the entire album/CD/cassette for $10-$15. And, a perk of the iTunes was that those of us who had significant CD collections could upload all our albums to the iTunes account and carry our music everywhere on our iPods and later iPhones.

However, the predatory Swedish businessman and "technologist" Daniel Ek basically went and ruined everything, enriching himself to the tune of billions in the process. It's a bit of a complicated story to understand how Ek moved Spotify into such a dominant position, manipulating record companies and the biggest artists into signing lopsided deals for music acquisition in exchange for "access and exposure." And that deal is absurdly slanted to enable the company to earn billions in membership fees while paying microscopic "revenue sharing" with artists of basically $0.0032 per stream. If it were an iTunes model, a million "streams" or downloads would make nice profits for the band, too. 

And, of course, as a Gen Xer, I won't claim that in the 70s and 80s I didn't make bootleg copies of cassettes or record songs off the radio. But for all that "theft," we still purchased a helluva lot of music, and honestly the 80s and 90s were the absolute heyday for bands making money on their music, even moderately successful ones. Granted, on the current streaming platforms, the biggest artists are still making huge cash. And I will concede, as will most musicians, that streaming has benefits of extending reach, garnering many listeners who would never know of the band or the song without streaming. But, as a music writer and researcher, I know of far too many excellent musicians who stream a ton of music, but still work and struggle to pay the bills, which wouldn't have been a problem with comparable sales in the pre-streaming era.

So, that is why I don't have a Spotify or AppleMusic account, and that's why I do have a Bandcamp account. While I haven't fully committed to the return to vinyl, I definitely plan to. And I have started purchasing digital downloads of some new favorites on Bandcamp. I will also acknowledge that I do "stream music," having had a Pandora account for years (I am, after all, in my 50s). But I see Pandora more like listening to the radio, which I also do extensively, and unlike radio, Pandora actually pays fees to the artists. Also, I have often pulled up music on YouTube, but I make an effort to listen to the ads so the artists still earn a little something from my appreciation of their art.

Now, I am sure that this post has plenty of inconsistences and even potential hypocrisies which I haven't fully thought through. But I stand by my position that Spotify and its streaming model has not been good for musicians. And, honestly, I think that the heavyweight artists could make a significant impact on the industry if they collectively moved to demand at least the option of buying digital downloads that would be shared with the artist.

By the way, this situation and point of view came on my radar just recently, when Westword, Denver's alt-weekly published a piece about Alternative Streaming Platforms for Denver Artists. And here are a couple other links to aspects of this issue.

Pandora's New Deal: Different Pay, Different Play : NPR

AM and FM Radio Do Not Pay Royalties to Artists -- That's Un-American

Great Music Books in 2025

Earlier this year, I published a piece on PopMatters about 10 Brilliant Music Books on the Art & Industry. Originally planned for last winter as a sort of 2024 gift guide of the best new releases for the music lover in your life, the piece morphed a bit into just a list of great books about music. 

For many music fans, the next best thing to the actual songs is the story “behind the music”. For book lovers who are also music lovers, a well-written and often unexpected music book is a treat that feeds both passions. Music books come in various formats, including band memoirs, music criticism, and pop culture philosophizing. From Lester Bangs’ collection of reviews in Psychotic Reactions & Carburetor Dung to Henry Rollins’ incredible journal-turned-memoir Get in the Van: On the Road with Black Flag, the music book is a valuable part of the art and the industry, providing fans with insight and context on the artists and the music they love.

I can still recall the first music book that grabbed and held my attention from cover to cover – No One Here Gets Out Alive (1981), the seminal biography of legendary Doors frontman Jim Morrison by Danny Sugarman. That book was more than just a memoir; it was a key player in my rock ‘n’ roll coming of age. Over the last few years, I have seen numerous innovative and informative books from various music genres. From rock to hip-hop to country to punk to emo, here’s a list of superb reads to deepen the music education for you or the music lover in your life.

My originally piece was planned for Westword, Denver's Alt-Weekly that I occasionally freelance for, and now the magazine has published a 2025 version of the list I had originally planned. Local writer Adam Perry has assembled a list of the Best Music Books Released in 2025 covering books "from Cameron Crowe's memoir to a deep-dive into queer culture in pop music, these are the perfect gifts for the music lover in your life." I am really excited about the new work from Cameron Crowe, and I would also recommend last year's excellent career study on REM - The Name of the Band is REM.

Every year, we read a lot of new music books, and it’s not only so that music-loving readers have holiday gift ideas for their loved ones, or just themselves; it also saves you time reading the bad or mediocre books that don’t end up on this list. Here, in no particular order, are six great music-related books released in 2025 that would be a blessing to crack open on Christmas morning or really anytime. Head over to your favorite bookstore and grab a copy.

And while I was wandering around a great bookstore in La Jolla recently, I was intrigued by a new book on the indie music scene with the awesome title The Hours are Long, but the Pay is Low. I lived in Chicago in the late '90s, but was unaware of the alt-country-punk scene that gave rise to Bloodshot Records, and I'm sorry I missed it. So, I'm hoping to get some insight and new bands to add to my collection.

“The music business is not a meritocracy: it is a crapshoot taking place in a septic tank balanced on the prow of the Titanic, a venal snake pit where innovation, creativity, and honest business practices are actively discouraged.”

Rob Miller arrived in Chicago wanting to escape the music industry. In short order, he co-founded a trailblazing record label revered for its artist-first approach and punk take on country, roots, and so much else. Miller’s gonzo memoir follows a music fan’s odyssey through a singular account of Bloodshot Records, the Chicago scene, and thirty years as part of a community sustaining independent artists and businesses.

Hilarious and hundred-proof, The Hours Are Long, But the Pay Is Low delivers a warm-hearted yet clear-eyed account of loving and living music on the edge, in the trenches, and without apologies.