energy and anti-energy,
weapons and armor.
What was it to you?
Was it somewhere to draw strength to face the day, was it where the last shreds of politics were making their last stand, was it the only thing around that said, "Me too", slashing through the barriers of country, class, race, gender and sexuality, which are presently being made ever more formidable.
Did pop tell your stories and struggles when others refused to even acknowledge you existed, was it a flickering pilot flight in the dark, was it a galaxy of dancers and dancefloors?
What's it to you?
Politics has been cored-out of everyday experience, most obviously in pop culture. What are the decades blogs if not a testament to the once-prevalent fusion of culture and dissent. Echos remain if you now where to find them, in smaller places and smaller arguments.
Struggle. Class. Race. Gender. Sexuality. Politics. Weapons & Armor, and the correct use of these for the purposes of hacking and slashing.
We want something uncomplicated, neat and clean and not frustrated.
What if you weren't lucky. What if you knew you were trapped and had no way to get out: past generations at least had the option of rattling their cages. The politics of clinical depression, the lifestyle of joblessness. The agony of hours of fuck-all to do and knowing that it doesn't matter.
We've all been hurt and we've all been damaged.
Retreat, hold territory, survive.
That's what retromania might be all about really, knowing that pop culture won't save you anymore, has ceased to be enough after the clampdown: your vintage clothes; your 40-year old guitar licks; your movie references.
A lot of 2000s pop culture is about secret damage, barely concealed wounds, knowing something's being taken away without you quite knowing the how, who, or why.
And everywhere signals everywhere: "Look away, look away, look away."
There's some retro I think I can live with.