What an unalloyed joy it is to bump and shimmy and pogo down memory lane by binge-watching music videos of those great songs you grew up with – the one-hit wonders; the timeless classics; the set list of bands nobody remembers but you.
In your youth teetering towers of VHS tapes dominated your bedroom, each one full of music videos lovingly collected from the many music video programs that once aired on a medium called “television”.
Today, these precious archives (along with television) have been made obsolete by the miracle of the internet, that wondrous portal that allows you to call up any old music video you like and watch it over and over again till you either nod off or are told by a loved one that it’s 3:17am and that if you don’t turn it down your computer shall be hurled with great force into the back garden.
As you marvel at the energy and passion of these artists rocking and screaming and belting out those lyrics that have long been part of your very being, you inevitably ponder over where they are now and what they are doing.
With some artists you don’t have to ponder.
Greyer, wider and a tad slower, they have powered on defiantly through the decades, filling arenas and selling out tours. They might not be able to jump quite as high or twirl quite as fast, yet the fire they had as young hell raisers have withstood the infirmities of age. They’ve still got it.
But that ain’t always the case.
Unlike actors, who tend to embrace ageing, many old rockers – too many – regard the clutch of songs that made them famous 40 years earlier as a magic potion of youth.
For them the idea of growing old with dignity is overwhelmed by the almighty powers of denial.
You watch some favourite old music clips then, driven by curiosity, go in search of more recent videos of the artist performing the same songs.
This is a highly dubious venture.
Sometimes you get lucky. OK, they’ve put on a few kilos but they still look and sound fine as they sing the anthems of their heyday.
Sometimes.
More often than not, however, what you end up with is the sad and sorry spectacle of pop stars who are blissfully unaware of the grotesque self-parody they have become.
Driven by delusion these ancient rockers pretend they are still lithe and promiscuous, even though they look like they have swallowed their younger selves in one gulp.
The squeals and high notes from those early years can’t be reached, yet that doesn’t stop them from trying – even if the result sounds like somebody strangling a poodle.
Dance moves performed half a century ago might have been rendered physically impossible by the ageing process, but that won’t stop them.
As they high kick and gyrate to choreography intended for the elasticity of youth, you can almost hear the snapping of ligaments as their calcified joints creak over the chorus.
Costuming presents an especially tragic sight. The hot pants and high heels might have looked sexy as you rode the rocket to global fame – but in your 60s? Not so much.
Then there’s the facework. Oh, the facework.
Unfathomable as the reasons may be, many aged artists – mostly women, it need be said – have had their visages distorted, pulled, stretched and rearranged so much they now look like relatives of Donald Duck. Their beauty has become a horrorshow.
The big lesson from all this is simple – To be young at heart is one thing; to pretend to still be young is something else entirely.
Best to leave the past where it belongs.
Vintage pop music acts touring Australia this year:
Boney M; Foo Fighters (One show only 24 Jan, Tasmania.); Earth Wind and Fire; Grace Jones; Split Enz; Paul Kelly; Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; Linkin Park; The Waterboys; Sepultura; Mike Oldfield.
And if you don’t know who Mike Oldfield is, you’re too young to be reading this column.