I remember in the states a few months ago listening to the car radio, absently humming along with the song “Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones. I remember being vaguely uneasy. The song was pleasant enough but clearly lacked edge. Without any context, it was remarkably difficult to slot as hip or lame. Beth Orton or Sheryl Crow? Nevertheless, I confess that I was enjoying it.
Today, the New York Times runs an article. Turns out the song exemplifies a broad new category of “grown-up” rock.
That’s just freaking great. I’ve not only been demographically labeled, which I hate, but I’ve been yoked to both the Gen-Xers and the baby boomers — my parents! — in a single cruel swipe. This is a catastrophe. I fully expect tomorrow’s Times to run the front-page headline: Stein Lapses Irrevocably Into Lameness; Attempt To Reclaim Youth in SE Asia Deemed Pathetic Failure.
I could mount a defense. I could mention the time I downloaded some Eminem songs on Kazaa, or my cultish devotion to the Beastie Boys. But who am I fooling, I ask you? Who? If not America’s paper of record, then who?
