Getting old sucks, amirite? I used to be with 'it', but then they changed what 'it' was. Now what I'm with isn't 'it' anymore and what's 'it' seems weird and scary.1 I’ve been in bands on and off (mostly off) since I was 13 and the regrettably named Stellar Groove (later Sanama) won the Baton Rouge High School 1995 Talent Show with a rousing rendition of “Free Bird.” More recently, I became the old guy chasing rock and roll dreams playing some under-rehearsed original surf rock to a handful of people in New Orleans dives on weekday nights for five drink tickets. I’ve been lucky enough to play with some seriously talented and/or cool people, but I’ve never been one of them. I’ve got more FICO cred than punk cred, and that’s saying something. But I still love the music like I’m a teenager. I don’t know how exactly to describe what I love, but I know it when I experience it.
Internet-famous film critic and otherwise affable mensch LexG2 half-jokingly riffs that music is a phase that old dudes like me have no business keeping up with, and there’s something to that. Music and youth culture have been married since at least the 1950s, and like fashion its coolness is often directly proportional to how much old people think it stinks (Steely Dan notwithstanding). And old people love thinking all new music stinks. Where does that leave us? Picking an era of music from our peak uninhibited youth and playing those songs on repeat?
I resigned myself almost ten years ago to unabashedly loving what I loved, supporting small acts in any way that I could, buying merch, going to shows, trying to spread the gospel among my fellow olds. I fell in love with bands doing it for little more than rent money (if they were lucky) touring in the era of Spotify. Bands like La Luz, Tacocat, Shannon and the Clams, Guantanamo Baywatch, and Chastity Belt just to name a few. I discovered most through Seattle station KEXP’s fantastically produced YouTube sets, and they’re not exactly underground but you’d be hard pressed to hear them outside of some curated playlists. One of my favorite finds from this era is Seattle-based wimps.
A trio of musicians (Matt Nyce, Dave Ramm, and Rachel Ratner) with backgrounds in various other groups but fully employed in traditional day jobs, wimps’ sound has a familiar, late 80s skate punk feel—paired with punchy vocals belting wry lyrics reflecting the cruel reality of getting older. Sure, rebelling against authority and partying until dawn is great, but once you’re in your mid-thirties, wouldn’t you rather take a nap? So would wimps. Over 30 but still down to clown at the house show? You might be the “Old Guy” at the party tonight (defiantly yelling “NO! I’m not your dad! NO! I’m not the landlord shutting it down! I’m just a man with no plans trying to have some fun at night getting out of the house!”). Effortlessly poking fun at the absurdity of being “an old that’s into music” in a way that slaps you in the face but then gives you a hug and a cold beer. Sometimes it’s just about anxiety, or sleeping in late, or the monotony of modern living.
Since having a kid, I’ve found it harder to make time to listen to and support acts like wimps. But in true wimps fashion, the adultier things get, the better the music gets. Coming out of the pandemic with a new baby was only an opportunity for more inspiration for them, highlighted by their new album’s first single titled “Mom,”3 Ratner sings about the paradox of rebelling against authority when that authority is a toddler (“I haven’t washed my hair in a week/every time I run I start to pee”). For the first time in a long, long time, I feel like the music is speaking to me now, and not to a memory of when I was “better.”
wimps were featured in Bandcamp Daily for an interview on their new album City Lights. Buy this album!
I love the perspective Lex has on films and especially the impact they had on him as a child with unfettered access to HBO in the early 80s. He truly loves movies but doesn’t take them or himself too seriously. Guy can record a 90 minute podcast by himself and still make you feel like it ended too soon.
Possibly the first punk song ever written about being a mother??
The whole idea that music is a young man's game is an antiquated notion. I think that our jokey ideas about rock and roll (which i also cherish) have a comical character about an aging rocker who is sad and pathetic. But that is caricature.
I definitely don't get out to as many shows anymore...but when I do, I see pretty diverse audiences and people. I also see more older people continue to play music and I believe everybody thinks it's cool and what the hell, the Rolling Stones have a new album.
Actually, I'll take it one step further. Music is no longer for the young. It is for the old. Moms, pops, daddies, grammies, nanas, pepeps and all olds RULE THE NIGHT.
We have a band in Cleveland of old guys playing what they call "AARPunk". They're called Tufted Puffins, and they're one of my favorite bands to go see.