“A generation gap is a popular term used to describe wide differences in cultural norms between members of a younger generation and their elders. This can be defined as occurring “when older and younger people do not understand each other because of their different experiences, opinions, habits and behavior.” The term first came into prominence in Western countries during the 1960s, and described the cultural differences between the Baby Boomers and their parents. Although some generational differences have existed throughout history, during this era differences between the two generations grew significantly in comparison to previous times, particularly with respect to such matters as musical tastes, fashion, drug use, and politics.” ~ Wikipedia.

I have been meaning to speak to my generation on this for some time now. I understood what generation gap was and why it occurred at a pretty young age. I would correctly label it as it made its rounds during my pre-teen years in the form of my mother screaming at me to turn off the “Goddamn boogah yaggah” music and listen to something positive. Like ABBA right mom? No. Never.

Strangely enough I was not alone in recognizing generation gap at an early age either. In fact I may have inherited the talent from my mother who explained to me that my grandmother’s generation hated Bob Marley and his amalgamation of conscious roots/rock steady with rock. “Rebel Music” they branded it and thus so did he. Yet once my mother became an adult she strangely lost the ability to recognize generation gap. Her Bob Marley became my Buju Banton and, like her parents before her, she was quick to dismiss the popular artists of my era as “lost and without morals”. I remember trying in vein to point out the hypocrisy of her actions every time I had to change the radio station during a long trip to the country or pull my pants up under my armpits because wearing them four inches below my navel was “unacceptable”. I vowed never to be like that. I would tolerate the generation after me.

So here I am: me and my peers rapidly approaching the 30s and life on the other side of the generation gap. And while for some the generation gap has mysteriously vanished, as evidenced by parents and older folk dressing and cavorting with and like those half their age, for others the gap is as wide as it was for my parents 20 years ago. Many in my generation shun top selling recording artists like 50 Cent and praise underground or neo-soul artists like Common and Jill Scott. Many of us have become like that old uncle who still wears his bell bottomed pants with butterfly-collared rayon shirts: unable to move with the times, and worse, unable to understand others moving with the times; garbed in new generation music that still appeals to our old generation tastes.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I understand and partake in the same nostalgic emotions that keep us attached to the familiar. But I can also appreciate how music evolves, flips, loops, and comes full circle. Today’s Souljah Boy/Crank It was yesterday’s Electric Slide and last week’s Mashed Potato. I may not like all the music out there today, and I appreciate the classics more than I ever thought I would, but I can also admit that the music of my age or my mothers age or the ages before that are no better than the music of today. Its just on the other side of that gap is all.