While Gen X is well known for its aversion to “selling out,” and there are endless debates about the best Gen X movies that embody that ethos, including the likes of Singles, Reality Bites, and Say Anything.
That said, there are relatively few “classic” songs that advise the listener against the evils of selling out.
I realized this recently while at the gym, that last bastion (refuge?) where I’m likely to listen to loud and aggressive music these days.
Well, a goodly dose of punk rock will still help power an intense work or writing session now and again, but I’m just as likely to listen to Cornbread by Lee Morgan (#200 of best 1,000 albums ever) or a Zen Level 10,000 lo-fi hip hop playlist.
In a way, that helps to make the gym special: I get to open the vaults and unleash the fury.
These thoughts crossed my mind recently while on the treadmill when “Suburban Home” by the Descendents, off of Milo Goes to College(#494) popped on.
It’s one of those songs – and the Descendents are one of those bands, too, I should add – that never fails to delight me.
The hook is somehow impossibly and deliciously crushing and absolutely melodic at the same time. And then it’s abundantly clear that these dudes have brains in their heads, and everything they do has real intent and thought behind it. The lyrics are clearly sarcastic and ironic, and the message sails through loud and clear.
Equally as important to a comedy lover like me: it’s hilarious.
Before the guitars even rev up, we hear:
I want to be stereotyped, I want to be classified
And by the time we get here, we know what’s up:
I want to be masochistic
I want to be a statistic
I wanna be a clone
I want a suburban home, suburban home
I suppose these lyrics strike home for me because I grew up in the suburban wilds of Long Island, New York during the 1980s and – like so many of my fellow compatriots nationwide – dreamed of escaping the suburbs one day.
I met my man Adam freshman year of college, and we remain close friends to this day. While he hails from Queens and I grew up on Long Island (or the non-NYC portion of the same island, as it were), we both shared that common bond of not wanting to end up in some bland imagined notion of conformity, some contrived boring sameness that surely had some sidenote of selling out in our imaginations (selling out being one of the chief taboos of our Generation X).
Adam’s fear of the suburbs themselves as representing conformity also took on comedic proportions. For example, years later when he visited the Orange County, California house of my now wife’s family, he tripped out about a large rock with the family name etched into it that was proudly displayed on the porch of their lovely home.
To him, this rock was conformity itself. His reaction amused me at the time, but what’s even funnier is that he’s a proud suburban dad these days, replete with a sensible minivan to help tote the brood around.
Hunting around for other ironic songs that convey a message of not selling out yielded surprisingly few results. That said, one that easily did pop to the top of the list is by one of my favorite bands: Reel Big Fish’s fittingly titled “Sell Out.”
While it’s probably the song most closely associated with RBF, the band has rattled off many catchy ska punk numbers that are equal parts snarky and wise to not acting like the group just because.
For example, I’m a huge fan of “Trendy,” also off the band’s debut album, Turn the Radio Off (#162).
It’s not so bad bein’ trendy
Everyone who looks like me is my friend
Please don’t hate me because I’m trendy
They’re not gonna laugh at me again
And if you want to go deeper down the RBF rabbit hole, “Thank You for Not Moshing,” off of Why Do They Rock So Hard?, is a wondrous sarcasm blast with a clear message imploring wannabe mosh pit tough guys to cool it.
When I’m in the pit
I’m gonna punch and kick
When I’m in the pit, don’t you know
I’m gonna fuck up shit
Staying with ska punk for a moment, we’ve also got Less Than Jake’s rather tasty “Johnny Quest Thinks We’re Sellouts,” off of Losing Streak (#361).
But we’re getting into fairly niche territory here, right?
I’d be remiss if I didn’t bring Devo into a discussion of using sarcastic humor with a deadly serious message underneath it, and the topic of selling out brings us directly to the iconic “Freedom of Choice,” off the album of the same name (#284).
As a huge fan of clever writing and wordplay both, I’m always blown away by how Devo takes one line and then immediately inverts it:
Freedom of choice is what you got
Freedom from choice is what you want
It’s one of those things where once you pay attention, you get the message, and you say ohhh… and something clicks that can never unclick again.