There are subtle moments when you realize you’re getting older, and for me, some of these times came while watching bands I idolized in my youth. It wasn’t tied to a birthday or a milestone—it was more like a slow realization as I watched performances by Elvis Costello, The Jam, and even They Might Be Giants. The songs were the same, the nostalgia still vibrant, but as the music filled the air, something felt different. The sharpness that once defined those performances had softened, and the energy I remembered from my younger days wasn’t quite there.
I remember seeing Elvis Costello with my wife tear through "Pump It Up" with an edge that seemed unstoppable. Now, though, while the voice and the wit are mostly still there, the fire has dimmed a little. Don’t get me wrong—he’s still a force on stage, but there’s a noticeable shift. It’s a reminder that time doesn’t spare any of us, not even our heroes. Similarly, The Jam, once synonymous with sharp suits and sharper lyrics, now feels like a faded memory of the raw, aggressive sound that spoke to my generation. And They Might Be Giants, with their quirky, offbeat brilliance, seem less about challenging the status quo and more about keeping the fun alive, even as the years add up.
Being a guy thats built and modified many professional recording studios, it’s hard to see and hear these bands, ones that once seemed so timeless, grappling with the inevitable effects of age. There’s something bittersweet about it—knowing that the music still holds all the meaning in the world, but the performers are no longer in their prime. It made me feel my own years, like a quiet reminder that the things I thought were untouchable are also moving along with time.
But there’s also something deeply admirable in the fact that they’re still out there. Elvis Costello still belts out the hits (When he wants), and Paul Weller’s legacy with The Jam endures, even as the live performances mellow (However, he played for 2 1/2 hours which was longer than my feet endured.). They Might Be Giants still keep their oddball charm intact, showing that aging doesn’t mean losing your identity—it just means evolving.
So yeah, it’s a little sad when I see those bands now, knowing they’re not quite the forces of nature they once were. But at the same time, there’s a kind of beauty in the way they keep going, reminding me that getting older doesn’t mean losing the passion or the joy that made us love them in the first place. It’s just about finding a new rhythm and one that still resonates.