I experienced a radio with little interest in New Edition or Anita Baker and before we claimed Common Sense, Kanye West, and Eminem. Much of our popular culture was imported from the coasts (and, later, the South) but even with that it was selective. Add to this the cultural isolation of that geography. State aid was rolled back as the cost of living increased. The factories that employed my uncles and aunties were closing while prisons proliferated. As a Black working-class kid in the 1980s and 90s Midwest, I was in desperate need of something to believe in. Complete with bedroom posters and questionable clothing choices, that too-long moment in time was, at once, an effort at individuality and blending-in. My Milli Vanilli phase, for example, was regrettable-not because the music was bad, not even because it wasn’t theirs, but due to the simple zeal of my fandom. Childhood listening choices rarely stand up to adult scrutiny.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |