What’s The Matter With Kids Today

It’s never been much of a secret that Phil Spector was mad as a hatter, even at the top of his game. Still, in the category of how the mighty have fallen, seeing Phil get 19 to life for murder is right up there with Syd Barrett dying as an overweight recluse or Jocko Pastorius getting beaten to death by a bouncer. It stung me, is what I’m saying. Enough that Phil and his sentence has been a topic of conversation for me. To this end: Who? What? Because I work with fucking children. Once I reminded them that Phil Spector was the rock producer who was on trial (again) for the mysterious gun-shot death of a b-movie actress he’d met in a bar and taken home, the next question was: he was a producer? I said, uh, yeah, the “Wall of Sound” to which the response was “I never heard of them.”



After my co-worker removed my stapler from my hand and prevented me from stapling myself to death, I explained that the wall of sound was not a who, but a musical style. Still rang no bells for this kid. The Ronettes? Be My Baby? The Chrystals? Da Doo Ron Ron? Nothing. Nada. This traumatizes me to the point where I find myself yesterday retelling the story to the Number Two Surrogate Daughter (my own child in an alternate reality) and her friend. They both look at me with googly eyes. Phil Spector means nothing to them, either. Nor does the concept of the wall of sound. Now I had a hand in the Number Two’s musical upbringing and this is causing me much distress. She calls her boyfriend, a certified rocker. Zip. Zilch. Not a faint hint of a whiff of a clue.



So, the Number Two and her friend pull my head out of the oven, and I show them the Wikipedia entry on Wall of Sound. Uh-huh. Fine. Now we know. Will you please go back to showing up how to make a pie crust?



Gah!!!! What the fuck are kids learning in college these days? How can any self-respecting rocker NOT know about Phil and the wall of sound? I’m reading this out loud to the girls, and asking questions of them as I go along. It is painfully like the classroom scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

So if Phil called his sound “Wagnerian”, then it is a direct line from him to? Anybody? Anybody? (sweet tapdancing jesus, people, haven’t you listened to anything I’ve given you?) Jim Steinman and Meatloaf. Yes??? The girls roll their eyes. I put away the lap top. Kids. No sense of history.



Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 05/31 at 07:22 PM in The Church of Rock & Roll


(4) Comments
#1. Posted by Elise on May 31, 2009

Oh, heavens. That’s very, very sad.

My manager at work, who is a 30-something woman from Iraq, ferfucksake, knows who Phil Spector is.

#2. Posted by RJ Flamingo on May 31, 2009

Yes, of course I know who Phil Spector is, and yes, I know of the Wall of Sound, the Ronettes, etc., but at the risk of pissing you off further, I wouldn’t want to be quizzed on the fucking musical philosophy, either.

I’m not sure why you bothered. Listen - I stopped talking to young(er) people about music 20 years ago, when I mentioned Paul McCartney and got the same blank look. “The Beatles? Wings?” “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of Wings.” Gag me.

Oh, and Spector? He was always a skeev and he done it.

#3. Posted by Cousin Steve on June 01, 2009

Yeah, reminds me of when we went to a concert by a group of Beatles imitators and our kids asked, “Who’re the Beatles?”

#4. Posted by Brette on July 02, 2009

To know, know, know him is to love, love, love him.

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