hip transformation

'villians and i always ragged on the hipsters we'd see at shows. square or black-rimmed glasses. flock of seagulls hairdo. scraggly facial hair. can of pbr. bobbing head or tapping toes. stone-faced.

i love me some indie music, but i got tired of those kids never showing how they truly felt about the music. there'd be one or two guys doing interpretive dance at the front of the crowd. do more than mouth bob your head. dance, scream the words with the band, bounce up and down. hell, start a mosh pit. something. the best part of live music is being with fans.

where does this retro rant come from? last night, i checked out a show in clarendon. two bands with female lead singers. boxcar collision. newer band, i presume. pretty good. there was the one guy, the superfan, that knew all the words. as i looked around the crowd, i saw the same hipsters from the 'ville. oddness. they were older, and presumably more professional than the college kids or townies that frequented the shows at the atlantic or sidebar or common grounds.

i realized something else. back in the 80s, these young professionals living in an urban setting had a different name. they weren't hipsters. they were yuppies. they enjoyed the arts. they went out at night. if it wasn't mainstream, they loved it and told all their equally hip friends about it so they could be different, just like everyone else! instead of road bikes and part-time jobs, they had bmws and high-salaried positions in tall buildings. as i stood there with my converse sneakers, wearing my too-small retro t-shirt, bobbing my head to the music, trying to discern the lyrics, drinking my stella artois, i realized something. i'm uniwittingly becoming a yuppie.

dammit.