Succumbing to nostalgia is just as dangerous as playing Russian roulette. I’ve always known that allowing myself to wonder if things were better “back then” would automatically hasten my demise.
I was gratified, consequently, at my revulsion upon revisiting R.E.M.’s debut album for the first time in more than a decade last month. I once savored Murmur. Having fully absorbed it in the 1980s, the album annoys me in 2025.
Imagine my surprise at my instant adoration of Horsegirl’s evocation of Reagan-era indie-rock on its new album Phonetics On and On. My long-suppressed affection for slightly twee bands like Camper van Beethoven, the dBs, the Feelies, Let’s Active, the Windbreakers came rushing back to me.
Now I’ve done it. This post serves as an inadvertent invitation for death to come a-knockin’. And when he arrives, I suspect he’ll be wearing a Horsegirls t-shirt.