20th century punk.

A 20 year old tells me they are into metal.

I get excited; I listen to their modern faves.

They don’t sound like what I call metal. Too many synths, too much sing-song emoting.

Too much professional, production value.

I realize I am old.

I rattle off my favorite metal bands: categories include precision, stoner, speed, and prog metal.

They know none; but, they nod along politely.

I switch.

“Do you like punk?”

The usual one comes up: aka Sex Pistols.

But, both of us are born American (proud or otherwise). I love Brit punk, but…

(I get exhausted with American’s thinking they need to get into Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols to like punk.

(Hell, the very album name is too bloatedly British-speak for the American punk scene)

Talk about appropriating a cultural identity. We ain’t got no Queen. Find what resonates with your experience. That said…great album.)

So, I rattle off some names.

We find a common starting place: Black Flag.

I ask if they know X.

They say, “There are a few bands called X.”

I say, “Yeah, but there is only one X; they are out of LA; and, their lead vocalist, Exene Cervenka is a badass bitch, just as obnoxious as that dick, John Joseph Lydon.”

“What’s the album title to look up?”

“The vinyl to buy is Los Angeles. The title is simply where they are. No commas needed.”

“What’s the song to look up?”

“First track: Your Phone’s Off The Hook, But You’re Not.”

“There’s a comma in that song title.”

“Yeah, but it’s just a song out of others contained in the album.”

“It’s about a landline being off the base?!”

“You mean a phone being off the receiver?”

“Yeah, I get the joke of “off the hook,” just seems dated.”

“The song came out in 1980.”

“Yeah, it’s dated, like I said.”

“And, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols came out in 1977.”

And, I know I am old. But, enjoy being young enough to understand the importance of referring to a single individual as “they”, when they ask it of me.