Everyone tells you that your 30s are infinitely better than your 20s, and everyone is right.
But there’s one thing that makes your 30s a little sad. Just like Drake talked up the virtues closing off your inner circle, aka having no new friends, your 30s is a period where you slowly, gradually embrace no new music.
I didn’t used to be this way. I used to fancy myself a cool kid. That is, I used to write about music.
I’d review concerts in order to see free concerts, I wrote regularly about the intersection of hip-hop and politics. My first piece in The Atlantic was a conversation about Nicki Minaj’s unique brand of feminism. I took on weird album reviews in order to write for a cool music mag.
Writing about music and voraciously consuming music went hand in hand.
But somewhere, at some point, I just sorta … stopped. I can’t say when it was or what changed – that would be like if you asked me to pinpoint the exact moment I fell asleep last night.