The Realization Had Set In, I Was Old

Everyone gets into a musical rut. Now and then.

But until a few months ago. Finding new bands. New music. Consumed an unhealthy amount of my time.

I don't know what happened. Did things pass me by? Was new music boring? Did I not understand it? Or maybe that was it. I had gotten too old. Over thirty.

I had noted the change in myself. And then I started telling people. Telling them what I had realized. I had no desire to find anything new.

My friends could post links to bands. Not interested.

A band I had heard or read about would be playing Making Time. Not interested.

Replace making time with The Khyber. The North Star. Johnny Brenda's. Not interested.

My friends would get bands for their DJ nights. Not interested.

I couldn't put forth the effort. The time. The money. To look into new bands.

My position was clear. My new position.

I would seek out old bands. Which were new to me. Soft Machine for example.

I would seek out releases by bands I used to listen to. Hardcore. Punk rock. Grunge. Industrial. Indie.

So nostalgic of me. Related to aging. I assumed.

Or. I would seek out and purchase new material from bands I already listened to. Or their members. Stereophonics. Ian Brown. Gorillaz. Oasis. Babyshambles. Erasure. Manic Street Preachers.

I got past it. Thankfully. I still follow my new position. The new parameters. But no longer do I limit myself to them. I have been seeking out new music. Again.

I was in a rut. The rut had less to do with music. And more to do with life.

The past month. Or so. Changes for the better. Including Yelle. And Neon Neon.

Manic Street Preachers - Send Away the Tigers. Purchased through Amazon. During my rut.