My Generation's Great Betrayal
Where are you on the dancefloor, Gen X?
Welcome to Mia’s Queue, a free newsletter for “humans in the loop” who care about conscious culture in a tech-driven world. I love exploring how taste and curation facilitate self-discovery and create deeper connections with others. Usually, I interview secret agents of taste, like Lindsey Gamble and Kristen Felicetti. This edition is a more personal post, a call to action for anyone who used to love dancing and finds themselves slowing down.
"That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age.”
Remember Matthew McConaughey’s iconic quote in Dazed and Confused?
That’s how I feel these days when I go to electronic shows (minus the creepiness). I get older, while everyone around me stays the same age.
Believe me, I try to find evidence to the contrary. I constantly look for my peers in these crowds, scanning for gray hairs and the more fully clothed, but we are increasingly difficult to locate. Often my husband and I are the two oldest people in the venue. (Maybe not literally, but very, very close.)
Sometimes that’s fun. Seth is a burly guy with formidable facial hair and a friendliness that knows no bounds. I’ve started to feel like I’m with the godfather when I’m with him in these places, especially when his mustache is waxed and he’s wearing something that the kids love. (Most beloved items include a pink flamingo “romp-him” and a gigantic custom orange fur coat with life vest buckles.) Turns out hardy facial hair draws massive respect from men of all types. We count the kudos and high-fives. I love to witness Seth being a magnet for men expressing earnest compliments to each other. You don’t see that every day.
At a festival on New Year's Day, multiple people asked my man for drugs, adding to the feeling that I was with a mafioso. Maybe the punters felt it was worth a shot given his tough-guy look coupled with his approachable demeanor. Or maybe it was because we were the only ones parked on a couch for an extended period, resting our bones and observing our surroundings. Either way, the scene felt like people continuously coming up to our throne.
While amusing to watch, this kind of stuff also does my head in. When I’m in these places, I don’t feel much different than everyone around us. In my heart, I’m the same age as the people with whom I’m dancing shoulder to shoulder. It feels unfair that my exterior isn’t keeping pace with my interior. I want everyone to know that, on the inside, I’m just like them — well, aside from the pain in my knee, the tweak in my neck, and my sore feet.
“Everyone is young and has such nice long hair 😝”
This was a text from a friend on the bathroom line at a Jamie XX concert last month. It had been a while since she’d been to a dance-music party like this, and her message confirmed what I’d long been noticing: Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.
I take this conspicuous absence as a great betrayal from my generation. What happened to us? Where’d we go? Why are most of us gone from electronic music spaces commanded by the hottest acts? The kids don’t own Fred Again, Disclosure, Fisher, fill-in-the-blank. We all do!
Now, I love my couch (or better yet my electric blanket) as much as the next person, but, friends, I’m here to say it’s too soon to cede these euphoric experiences to our dewy-skinned sisters and pineapple-print-loving brothers. Sure, it’s on-brand for Gen X to march to the beat of its own drum and not give AF about showing up for popular (or any) events. But I implore you: if you love this music and have the resources, come experience it with us. Life is short, but not over! Plan. Disco nap. Caffeinate. Hydrate. Sit if you want.
The rewards for powering through? Epic nights out, fun memories with friends, a feeling of community, another notch in your concert list. How else can you say you saw Fred Again at a tiny venue like Great American Music Hall or Daft Punk’s iconic Coachella set? (Why yes, yes I did.) The music and visuals are so dialed in these days, the production bar is so high, it’s like hopping on a rollercoaster that rides through a funhouse before spitting you out on the other side — exuberant, exalted, even if, yes, a little exhausted.
Among the throngs leaving Jamie XX that night, squeezing through a small corridor like so many humidified sheep, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and there was a person not much older than my son, 18.
“Hey,” he asked me, “what’d you think of the show?”
I’ll never know if he singled me out because my friend and I stood out as clearly a different demographic in this flock, but it was such an unexpected random encounter, I can’t think of another reason why he’d be curious to hear my thoughts.
“Amazing,” I said with full eye contact and an authentic heart.
“Yeah,” he agreed, raising his hand to fist-bump with me.
I lifted my fist to meet his, feeling honored that my opinion would matter to anyone, particularly to someone so distant from me in years. We made emphatic contact, then set off into the night on our separate ways.
In my queue:
📚 The Library Science Book Club: I belatedly read VOGUE’s cover story on Kaia Gerber and was delighted to learn she’s “a serious and erudite reader” with awesome taste in books and a book club with her friend Alyssa Reeder. “They created it in 2020 as a space in which reading contemporary fiction is cool (many photos on Instagram of books as aesthetically compelling objects) but also taken seriously while being unpretentious and inviting. The project is informed by Kaia and Alyssa’s idiosyncratic, edgier, less commercial sensibility, with Kaia conducting the discussions.” Sign me up!
🎶 Mary Lattimore + Walt McClements “Rain on the Road”: A collaborative album by a harpist and an accordionist. The five tracks blend long-form improvisations with subtle field recordings. My favorite track is the 12-minute opus, “The Poppies, the Wild Mustard, the Blue-Eyed Grass.” It’s so painfully beautiful, it moves me to tears every time I hear it. I used it as the snippet to honor our 17-year-old dog, Gypsy, who passed away last month.
🥕 Cultured Pickle Shop, Berkeley, CA
Going here was my son’s idea for our monthly date. On the weekends, they have an incredible set menu, a “Rice and Pickles” bowl with over a dozen little piles of fermented and pickled goodness. This isn’t the bowl we had, but it gives you an idea of the kind of treat you’re in for. Even though everything ran extremely behind (despite having a reservation, which seems essential), it would’ve been worth waiting even longer for. I can’t wait to go back.
Hi Mia! Anthony and I just purchased concert tix to https://www.klangphonics.com/ performing in Barcelona, did you by chance go to the show @ the Independent? If so what did you think?
I’m much too old to feel this damn young