Fade to Black

Who remembers the movie "Airheads"?

*****

I was scanning through the channels when the news came on, reporting that the end was nigh for DWNU-107, "The home of Nu Rock". That's just sad. A flurry of flashbacks suddenly swept over me, the earliest of which was being pressured by a neighborhood friend to listen to this rock and roll station because they were going to play some new wave music. Not really being much of a fan of rock music back then, (wow, the term 'rock and roll' just seems awkward, doesn't it?) I dismissed it as some trivial matter that was just there, in existence, with nothing to do with me.

Back then, I was listening to Elton John, Barry Manilow, Air Supply and the likes. Gay, I know. I was like 10, gimme a break.

Then, I discovered Nirvana. You know, Cobain and the other two guys. I could proudly say that I knew of them before anyone else in the country. This, I was fairly certain of because I was probably the only 14 year old who looked forward to getting his geeky hands on a copy of Newsweek magazine. There was this article, about a band in Seattle who was making a lot of noise (literally) and taking over the airwaves in American colleges and very possibly, drug dens. They even featured a photo of their album cover, a baby swimming toward a dollar bill. Cute. I wondered how they sounded like?

I was to know just under a year later, when I chanced on NU107 and serendipitously heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit", and freaked out our dog in the process. This led to my awareness of this angry new genre, something very different from Manilow, Introvoys, and a slew of bubblegum pop music and shoulder-pad clad boys that had been a staple of my sister's collection. I had found myself soaking in all this new music, provided by NU107 all day, and even back-tracked to acts like Metallica, Megadeth, Guns and Roses, Rage against the Machine, Skid Row, Led Zeppelin and ultimately the Beatles. Fights erupted, when my sister found that her precious Spandau Ballet albums had been recorded over with this "noise", directly laid down from the station's playlist. I'm pretty sure I was not the only kid who braved calling the station to request an Ugly Kid Joe song then patiently waited, with one finger on the record button, for them to play it 12 songs later so he could record it, complete with the DJ's intro and outro.

College came, and that particular station became some sort of anthem. There was this new found freedom, after all. To go to parties, get drunk until you got sick, skip class, smoke pot, hit on girls (which rarely went anywhere, though), and live life to the fullest. This was the time of our lives, and we all wanted to think that we were different, that we knew the secret to life, and that we were invincible. Wasn't this what rock music was all about? Going against the grain, being your own person, questioning the norm and rising above all those who listened to losers like the Backstreet Boys, N'sync and Westlife? NU107 wouldn't have any of these wimps, and neither were we. (Uhm, okay, so I did personally enjoy some of these wimpy songs as well. They're catchy, yeah?)

Then I hit the brick wall known as the real world, when the parents were no longer obligated to finance my penchant for alcohol, cigarettes, loose women, Top 40 t-shirts and acid washed jeans. I grudgingly took a job at minimum wage, and kept blaming "the man" for all my troubles. I went home to my tiny apartment, and found comfort in instant noodles and the words of the great philosophers: Coldplay, Parokya ni Edgar and Incubus at the temple of NU107. I was now part of the working class, struggling to survive and yearning for justice. Starbucks was a capitalist device to rid us of our birthright to cheap, honest coffee, and Apple was out to create mindless zombies with their iPods and other shiny gizmos.

Years pass, and I'm wearing leather shoes and chinos. Traffic is bad, so I pull over to a Starbucks to pass the time. I pull out my smartphone and check the news to see how far traffic is backed up. Then I hear the familiar call letters on the radio, it's NU107! I slouch further, relaxing while the aroma of a rich Amerikano wafts in the air. Wait, this song is familiar, it's one of those old Elton John and Barry Manilow songs from yore... only with harder riffs and a deeper bass. Then I realize, it's an "emo" song, being played by the "Home of Nu Rock". Then it's followed by another, and another, until I'm pretty sure the vocalist should have somehow killed himself already with all this tragedy.

Back in "the day", rock songs were about standing up to authority, sex, the odyssey of a hard life, poverty and injustice, and loads of sex. Now, some punk bawls and gouges his eyes out because his girlfriend didn't text him when she got home. Tsk tsk tsk. (Inside joke there, sorry dude, just couldn't resist! hehe) Compared to these guys, the Backstreet Boys looked pretty badass.

But who am I to pass judgement? I've sold out, and hardly listen to the radio these days. I'm back to playing Burt Bacharach and other standards, leaving all that rage and anger behind. Heck, I'd even go watch a Britney Spears or Kylie Minogue concert if they ever do come here, (not for the music, though) and I can sit through an episode of Glee! without having to squirm once. So I guess if I've changed, then the "Home of Nu Rock" would, too.

*****

As I was driving to work today, I switched the radio to Channel 1 (yes, it has always been the first option when I do turn on the radio) out of curiosity. Faint static, all that's left of an era. Fade to black...