How I Spent the Better Part of My Morning

As I think about these past few years’ migration of “indie” from “guitar music” to “dance party music,” I start to wonder about how “indie” fans will age. I mean, is it sadder to be 48-year-old rock guy, wearing a threadbare vintage band t-shirt, standing in the back of the rock show, nodding your greying head to the guitars– or is it sadder to be the 48-year-old, slightly-balding guy, squeezed into dayglo American Apparel spandex, pressed in amongst a throng of sweaty 19-year olds, all huddled around a guy with a laptop?