I’ve been called a music elitist, a hipster, and probably a few other things I don’t even know about. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve spent over three decades in and around the music industry. You hear a lot of music, and when you’ve been around long enough, you start to notice patterns—what lasts, what fades, what gets rediscovered, and what gets completely forgotten. And when you get older, you start to feel nostalgic for the music that shaped you.

For me, that era is the early 2000s. Bands like Incubus, Sevendust, Papa Roach, and the second Eminem record. That time just hit differently. Maybe it was the rawness of the sound, maybe it was just where I was in life, or maybe it was because rock was still dangerous in a way that it just doesn’t feel like anymore.

That being said, I didn’t grow up only on early 2000s music. My musical upbringing was all over the place.

I was raised on The Eagles, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, but also The Grateful Dead, Rod Stewart, Elton John—basically, everything you’d expect when your parents were part of the hippie generation, and the only way to find new music in the ‘80s and ‘90s was the radio. I grew up with a mix of classic rock, folk, and FM staples, and it shaped how I hear music to this day.

So imagine my existential crisis when I found out that the music I grew up with is now considered classic rock.

The Conversation That Hit Like a Brick

About a year ago, I was at a family gathering. My cousin had brought a friend, and her friend had brought her 14-year-old daughter.

At some point, I noticed the kid sitting off to the side, zoned into whatever she was listening to on her phone with headphones on. And because I can’t help myself, I had to ask.

“Hey, just curious—what are you listening to?”

Without hesitation, she casually responded:

“Oh, you know… classic rock from the year 2000.”

…I needed a second to process that.

Now, I’m fully aware that 2000 was over 20 years ago. But hearing someone say it out loud like that? It felt like a punch to the gut. Classic rock? From 2000?

To me, classic rock was always The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles—music from the ‘60s and ‘70s. The idea that music from my late teens and early 20s now fits into that same category? I wasn’t ready for that.

And Then It Got Worse

I had to dig deeper.

“Who’s on your playlist?” I asked.

“Limp Bizkit,” she said, like it was no big deal.

…What the actual fuck?

Now, I get it. Limp Bizkit was a huge band at the time. They were everywhere—on MTV, headlining festivals, influencing an entire generation of nu-metal bands.

But classic rock?

I was still trying to process this when I asked her:

“Do you know who Led Zeppelin is?”

She stared at me, completely blank.

“Who?”

And that’s when I officially felt old as fuck.

The Generational Shift

I know that every generation eventually sees their music reclassified as old. It’s inevitable.

But there’s something about actually hearing someone say it that makes it real. Hearing someone call Limp Bizkit classic rock while having no clue who Led Zeppelin is? That’s the moment where reality smacks you in the face.

And honestly? I don’t know if that means I should feel nostalgic or personally attacked.

What About You?

When was the moment you realized your music had become “classic”?

Leave a comment on the blog (not on social media—you already know how I feel about that).