There are a couple moments with my therapist that led to me writing this blogpost.
Dating back to the first week of March, our sessions took a whole new direction we've been riding with ever since: Developing a sense of identity. There are a lot of loaded questions that come with a topic like this. But interestingly enough, there's a question in this ballpark that I've had an immediate answer to for years. What band reminds me the most of myself? The Replacements.
My therapist threw out an interesting statement in our last visit. It felt emphatic in the moment, then it escaped me, and now it's coming back to me. They mentioned that some of the most impactful moments in our lives are times when we felt understood. I've been trying to recall times where I actually felt that, among friends or whoever. It's hard to pinpoint lasting moments where I felt this sensation after talking to someone. But I know there have been times where I felt deeply understood by some guy yelling at me in my headphones. Again, I'm talking about The Replacements.
It's both puzzling and comical to think that I feel connection with these guys I've never had anything in common with. Angsty, rebellious, alcoholic punks. There's something at the heart of their lyrics that I've kept in my heart like it's Moses's 11th Commandment: Self-Loathing.
If I were to list of my 20 favorite bands, you would see self-loathing is a common theme between most all of them. I've just always loved the character that Paul Westerberg presents. I referred to him as "angsty" earlier. But I think the proper word for him, and the undying emotional state I share with him, is "frustrated." Sure it's depressing, but it's also passionate. Classic rock taught us that rock singers should be wailing about drugged-up sex with crazy groupies and stuff like that. I want to hear someone yell about feeling too messed up and worn out for the world they see in front of them. Paul is a guy who could convince you to share a beer with him, but warns you that it's not worth becoming too attached. And yeah. Dang. I've seen myself this way as far back as I can remember.
I had a Pandora station for Pavement when I was 18. Every band it threw at me had me like, "This is what music is supposed to sound like!!!" This is where I listened to The Replacements for my first time.
I remember "Can't Hardly Wait" instantly became an anthem for me. I always thought of it as this ratty young man who's unsure of himself wanting to make a change. With only a handful of words sung within 3 minutes, he depicts scenery involving anxiety, love letters, heaven, and ashtrays. "Jesus rides beside me. He never buys any smokes." That's genius. And of course, the simple play on words with "I CAN'T hardly wait." Sounds like something a teenager would mumble as they roll their at their parents. The energy of this song tells me this is an inspired person who wants to start making changes. But he wants to make sure we know that he's not excited about the process. That's often how I feel about my own life.
This might sound like a perfect band for guys in high school or college. Then why does all this stuff still feel applicable to me at age 33? Trying to navigate towards signs of self-discovery through the tarpits of your own self-loathing. I've never been under the impression that there's any true "destination" in journeys like this. We're always developing as people. But I'm still seemingly stuck in some developmental stage that most people go through in their adolescence. I've felt less willing to work and more agitated toward my peers over these last few years than I ever did as a teenager. Maybe I just need a band who'll invited me to "hang side by side" with them as we're punished for our crimes of human inadequacy. Or maybe listen to a dude continuously yell "I'M SO UNSATISFIED" for like 4 minutes.
A band can't be an identity. And hating yourself doesn't count as an identity. But it can at least be a replacement for one.
