Go Ahead, Name a Rock Artist Whose Best Recorded Music Was Made After Age 40

Over a recent 35-day stretch, I saw concerts by three artists who would cover 3/4 of my “classic rock Mt. Rushmore”:

The Who, whom I actually saw twice in May.

Paul McCartney, representing The Beatles, being as close as I'll ever get.

And the Rolling Stones.

(hyperlinks are to my reviews of the concerts)

The fourth slot would be taken by Led Zeppelin, who I was too young to ever see. But I have seen lead singer Robert Plant several times—most recently in February 2018—including twice, in the ‘90s, with Zep guitarist Jimmy Page.

My favorite musician, Bruce Springsteen, would get his own mountain carving, kind of like Crazy Horse (the Native American warrior, not the band, best known for backing Neil Young, who I’ve also seen plenty).

From the above—even without my adding that I’ve seen the Who, Stones, McCartney, Springsteen, Plant and Young a composite 100+ times—you should get the gist that I enjoy seeing legendary, and yes, old, musicians in concert. Of this bunch, only Springsteen has yet to turn 70, and he will on Sept. 23.

And even though I consider another batch of six favorites—U2, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Foo Fighters, Wilco, Bob Mould—who I’ve also seen a combined 100 times, to be of younger generation, they’re essentially all in their 50s, if not 60. 

I myself am 50, and embrace greatness and vitality in anyone of any age.

Yet while older artists can be phenomenal concert acts well into their 70s, at some point I hit upon this realization:

There is no one I can think of in a rock vein—and largely in other musical genres and even many other artistic idioms—who has created (i.e. written & recorded) consistently better music after the age of 40 than they did before it. (In the case of bands, I’m referencing the ages of the core members, not the longevity of the group.)

Can you think of anyone who refutes this?

Again, I don’t mean 40+ artists we might call “great” simply for their live performances and legacies.

Nor am I saying that no one over 40 has put out terrific music. 

I’ve liked several albums by Springsteen, McCartney, Plant, Bob Dylan, Ray Davies (of the Kinks), David Byrne (of the Talking Heads), Paul Weller (of the Jam), Elvis Costello and many other veteran acts, in recent decades.

But there isn't any album--and very few songs--from their latter periods that prefer to their early output.

In my @@@@ (out of 5) review of Western Stars, the recently released album by Springsteen, his first of new work since 2014, I said that I've genuinely been enjoying the record, finding it to be something rather different yet excellent by my hero.

But I was also forthright in saying that it's not nearly as great as early Springsteen masterpieces, like Born to Run, Darkness on the Edge of Town, The River, Nebraska and Born in the USA, nor even compilations of outtakes from those albums.

Is it better than 1987's Tunnel of Love? I don't think so yet, but maybe once Western Stars truly sinks in I will.

But to be clear, that's not my thesis. Though still less than one might imagine, artists over 40 have undoubtedly made some music that's better than some they made before it.

But no one's best post-40 stuff is better than the best of their younger output.

Or almost no one's.

Though I had never really known her music, last month I was invited by a friend to a concert by Lucinda Williams.

Ostensibly splitting the difference between rock, folk and country, Williams is now 66. She released her first album in 1979, but 1998's Car Wheels on a Gravel Road seems to widely hailed as her finest work (she performed it in full at the show I attended).

Doing the math, she would've been over 40 when writing and recording this Grammy-winning album. 

I don't know enough of her earlier oeuvre to say definitively, and she isn't really the type of "rock act" of which I'm thinking, but she could be a name cited in opposition to my hypothesis.

But I wouldn't even say that NO rock artist has made better music post-40, just that it's exceptionally rare.

So think about it; who might you name?

It might seem natural to think about acts who were in a band or duo but then went solo.

McCartney, Plant, David Byrne, Sting, Paul Simon, Paul Weller, Paul Westerberg, Phil Collins.

Make your argument if you want, but I would say that there talented folks were not only better younger, alongside others, but that even their solo material was generally better before they hit 40.

Interestingly, when discussing this topic with a friend, he said, "What about Picasso?"

Obviously, he wasn't a rock star, per sé, yet someone who remained prolifically brilliant throughout much of his 91-year-life.

But while Guernica, painted at 55, can be seen as a high water mark, and there was remarkable ingenuity and beauty long after October 1921--when Pablo turned 40--I love his impressionistic stuff from around 1901 (see nearby painting), the Blue Period, Rose Period, Les Demoiselles d'Avignon and invention of cubism (circa 1910) as much as anything that came after. 

OK, you say, switching gears, what about moviemaking. That hasn't traditionally been a young person's domain.

I certainly wouldn't argue pre-/post-40 creative predominance in film as exhaustively as in rock (Hitchcock, Wilder, Hawks, Kurosawa and others would debunk my theory), but look at the birth dates & filmographies of directors like Scorsese, Spielberg, Coppola, Welles, Tarantino and Truffaut. Most of their best work preceded their 40th birthdays.

But while similar examples might be cited in fine art, film, literature and more, I am really only stating my theorem in the realm of rock music.

In terms of music known to me and/or a reasonable subset of "the masses" virtually nobody has created superior material after the age of 40 than before it.

As to why, that's a different blog post, but most artists spend their whole life creating their first album--i.e. the songs that get them signed to a recording contract--but perhaps 18 months, while on tour, writing the follow-up. 

Many geniuses--and I don't think that's the wrong word--have several superb albums in them, but by 40 they've either become mega-rich superstars or have had their day before fizzling out.

And while several--huge, middling and minor--will keep creating and releasing music for years, or decades, on end, only in the rarest of instances will it surpass what's already been done.

It Was 50 Years Ago Today, The Beatles Taught the World to Play: The Impact of Their First Appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show

(Note: This piece was started on Feb. 9, 2014, but revised & completed on Feb. 10.)

February 9, 1964 is one of the most important dates of my life.

Even if I wouldn't be born for another 4-1/2 years.

While I certainly can be prone to hyperbole, especially in the case of creative heroes, and I won't pretend that I can appreciate the impact with the same acuity of those who saw it as it happened, it is hard to overstate how musically, culturally and historically significant the Beatles' first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show--50 years ago today--was.

I have the entire show on DVD--commercials and all--and watched it again on Sunday night, along with the CBS Special, The Beatles: The Night That Changed America, which was only sporadically great, but featured Paul and Ringo playing together at the end. The show was worthwhile, but was more a celebration of The Beatles in full and not the specific explosion fueled by their first Sullivan appearance.

Though I have watched the show before, and seen clips from it countless times, even in viewing it at 7:00pm on February 9th, 2014, I realize that I could really never know the novelty of witnessing it, largely or completely uninitiated, as it occurred, live, at 7pm (Central Time) on February 9, 1964.

Still, I think calling it "The Night That Changed America," as CBS does, actually sells it short.

My perception, secondhand as it may be, is that that night changed the world.

I will do my best to explain why via specific reasons below, aided by numerous articles on the topic and insights I sought from friends.

While the two are inextricably linked, in some ways that can't, shouldn't and won't be divorced, trying to explain "why the Beatles on Ed Sullivan changed the world" isn't the same as "Why the Beatles changed the world."

Though I've long considered February 9, 1964 (and the 7th, when they arrived in America to screaming throngs at JFK Airport in New York and conducted a brilliant news conference) as the demarcation of Beatlemania--and even, connotatively, "The Sixties"--that Sullivan show was far from the genesis of The Beatles.

I'll defer to Wikipedia and untold billions of other words for the Beatles' biography, but the band's origins date to 1957. While the "Fab Four" weren't locked into history until mid-1962, when Ringo Starr became their drummer, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and early bandmates had--as The Beatles--played hundreds of shows in their hometown of Liverpool, England and in Hamburg, Germany between 1960-62.

By 1963, they were humongous stars in England, topping the British charts with "Please Please Me," "From Me to You" and "She Loves You."

And before they hit CBS-TV Studio 50 in New York, they had already written, recorded and (in most cases, at least in the UK) released "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," "All My Loving," "I Saw Her Standing There" and "Can't Buy Me Love," along with many other now classic songs.

Though its ascent was rapid, in January 1964, "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" became the #1 song in America, a couple weeks before the boys got to New York. 

So it's not like being introduced to America via Ed Sullivan is what made the Beatles great, or what even "got them on their way." The unbridled creative ambition that led them from mastering cover versions of songs by heroes like Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Buddy Holly and myriad others to writing their own songs to constantly expanding their songwriting capabilities to only recording original material was already well underway, and this artistic thirst would lead to considerable greater invention after 1964 (including using recording studio techniques as part of their musical creation, creating the "album as art form" with Rubber Soul, etc.).

And February 9, 1964 wasn't even the first time the Beatles were seen on American TV. CBS had done a news feature on them in late 1963--initially the morning of November 22, 1963, but as that was the day President Kennedy was assassinated, again on December 10, the latter leading to the initial U.S. airing of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand"--and on his popular NBC show, Jack Paar had shown a clip of The Beatles performing, about a month prior to the historic Sullivan show.

So the Ed Sullivan Show--a television staple since 1948 that was regularly watched 50 million people each Sunday night--didn't represent the start of the Beatles, and even in America, their first appearance on it and two more that February, was only the beginning of the greatest rock music legacy in history.

So why did it--and does it still--matter so much?

(Disclaimer: Some of the following is simplified or technically overstated for the sake of space, and it's also possible I'm just wrong about some stuff. Feel free to correct me.)

1. The show was watched by a then-record 73 million people in the United States, proportionally--approx. 38% of the population--still the largest audience for a scheduled program. At the time, there were only 3 networks (CBS, NBC, ABC), no cable and very few multi-TV households. So while much has been made, correctly and echoed below, about the Beatles' effect on "youth culture," their watershed moment was decidedly cross-generational.

2. Much of pop culture, and particularly pop music, was rather tepid before the Beatles appeared. Please see my disclaimer before you take this completely literally, for I know there were many great movies, television shows, stage works, etc., prior to 1964. And yes, just in the pop/rock realm, there had already been several greats such as Elvis, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, the Beach Boys, the Four Seasons, Motown groups and many others creating songs that still hold up well today. Not to mention that Bob Dylan had already made the scene with other folk stars. But take a look at the top songs of 1963. While there are a number of iconic artists and songs, there are also many by people that probably weren't quite seen as hip, even then. And Ed Sullivan's variety show featured all sorts of acts that I imagine many people now, and likely younger folks then, would consider rather tame, perhaps even lame. Heck, after the Beatles essentially opened the Feb. 9 show, they were followed by a guy, Fred Kaps, who did an old card trick and something involving a salt shaker. There was also a performance by the Broadway cast of Oliver, which include future Monkee, Davy Jones, and a funny routine by Frank Gorshin. These were the highlights, and other acts that night--Tessie O'Shea (a large woman singing with a banjo), McCall & Brill (a comedy duo whose remembrances of the night are worthwhile) and Wells & the Four Fays (an acrobatic troupe that closed the show)--probably all the more made The Beatles seem like martians, both to young viewers and older ones.

3. The songs they sang were terrific. This is certainly an opinion, but I still love hearing "All My Loving," "She Loves You," "I Saw Her Standing There" and "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," along with their cover of "Till There Was You" from The Music Man. And while I am not a musician and can't cite music theory, enough trusted sources have noted how novel the Beatles' songwriting was, even early on. Though it seems simple, the chord structures and choices are supposedly rather complex, and certainly unique at the time.

4. It wasn't really about hype, but the Beatles were even better than it. In retrospect, it may seem that Beatlemania was the result of a publicity machine, but throughout 1963 as the Beatles were selling millions of records in England, Capitol Records--the American subsidiary of EMI--repeated refused to release any songs in the U.S. The first DJ to play "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" had to have a copy brought to him by a stewardess who had visited Britain. It exploded because people who heard it, loved it, and while some degree of frenzy briefly preceded the Ed Sullivan appearance, much of the reason it still matters is because the Beatles were the real deal.

5. Relatively few Americans had previously seen a rock band, a group not from America or even a band logo. While several had backing bands, most of the rock 'n roll pioneers were solo acts. The Four Seasons was more of a "vocal group," and to a degree, so were The Beach Boys. Nobody from England or anywhere else had made much of a dent in America. And if (m)any prior rock acts--such as at the local sock hop--had a band logo emblazoned on the bass drum, I'm not aware of it.

6. Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Billy Joel, Ozzy Osbourne, Gene Simmons and myriad other musicians have traced their inspiration to seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. See this article.

7. The British Invasion was spawned. Once the Beatles broke in America, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Herman's Hermits, Dave Clark Five, The Who, The Zombies and many more would follow. Although several of these British bands' origins precede February 9, 1964, awareness of them in the United States certainly didn't.

8. America was in a malaise after the JFK assassination. I've read sensible commentary about how this is overstated, that the screaming teens at the airport, in the Ed Sullivan audience and throughout the country weren't still in a funk. But I had asked a co-worker old enough to remember and he validated that there was a palpable sorrow following the President's murder, and that the Beatles provided something of an acute antidote.

9. Fashion, and hair, changed. It's a bit hard for me to believe, but as their initial American news conference attests, one of the most noteworthy things about the Beatles to the press--and presumably the public--was the length of their hair. Everything you can envision about the 60s and hippies with long hair came after February 9, 1964 and not before it.

10. The seeds of uprising were sown. A friend of mine, Susan Doll, wrote the book Elvis for Dummies and in it shares how in the '50s, for the first time, teens claimed musical heroes distinct from their parents'. So the Beatles didn't establish the idea of an American youth culture, but Doll suggests (to me) that The Beatles "ignited and brought together a new generation that would tie rock music to the politics of the counterculture."

This meshes with the thoughts of my friend Ken, who said that "once young people found a common music, they found a common voice. Four years later that voice would shout 'Hell, no, we won't go.' For the first time in U.S. history, a generation of young American men refused to fight a war."

I should also note here that while great rock 'n roll music existed in America before the Beatles arrived, the genre was already in a down slope, if not outright doldrums. In 1962, Decca Records in England rejected The Beatles, saying "guitar groups are on the way out."

So as my friend Brad succinctly puts it, beginning by being seen by 73 million people on Feb. 9--they also appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show the following two Sundays:

"The Beatles made rock 'n roll permanent."

Also, early 1964 coincided with the first Baby Boomers coming of age. This might explain why the Beatles made even more of a sonic boom than Elvis had.

11. The frenzied hysteria seemingly surpassed anything before, or since. Here I'm talking about the high-pitched shrieking of teenage girls at the show's taping--beyond that which accompanied Elvis' Ed Sullivan appearances and teen idols since, from Duran Duran to New Kids on the Block to N'Sync, etc.--and which may, as others have suggested, have had sexual undertones that would further define how "The Sixties" differed from "The Fifties."

But I also mean that, while I have seen and noted a few televised musical mega-moments--Michael Jackson doing "Billie Jean" on Motown 25, The Clash on Fridays, LiveAid, highlighted for me by Queen and the Led Zeppelin reunion, Nirvana's first appearance on Saturday Night Live--I don't think any of these quite captured, or changed, the zeitgeist like the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. Perhaps because of the degree to which the Fab Four had already changed it.

Summing up, I'll reference an article by Fred Kaplan on Slate.com that was actually written to commemorate the 40th anniversary of that memorable night. Providing some of the insights and information I used above, he wrote:

"The timing of the Beatles was perfect. 1964 marked the emergence of the Baby Boomers as a social force—and the Beatles were the vehicle for their ascendance as a cultural force. What records were the No. 1 hits on the pop charts before the Beatles took over the slot and stayed there for years to come? Bobby Vinton’s “There! I’ve Said It Again,” the Singing Nun’s “Dominique,” and Dale & Grace’s “I’m Leaving It Up to You.” The Beatles changed the charts forever. You can draw a line in the historical sands of popular culture at 1964. A lot of pop music that came after that point still sounds modern today. Almost all the pop music that came before that point sounds ancient. 

On Feb. 9, 1964, The Ed Sullivan Show was the stage on which this change was dramatized."

Whatever Happened to the Creative Cluster and "Can You Top This?" Artistic Competition?

“In 1966 Eric Clapton was the undisputed king of rock guitar in Britain. That was until Hendrix turned up on the scene. Jimi had only been in England for a week, yet there was already talk of this amazing American guitarist who had been creating a storm in London's blues clubs. In a particularly over confident gesture Hendrix asked if he could jam with Cream at their gig at Central London Polytechnic. Hendrix took the stage and tore through a version of 'Killing Floor' in double time. Cream soon regretted allowing him to join them. Hendrix's outrageous stage antics and dazzling guitar playing caused Clapton to leave the stage in a state of shock. He asked Chas Chandler afterwards "Is he always that fucking good?" (http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/sevenages/events/blues-based-rock/hendrix-jams-with-cream/)

“Raphael's work in the Vatican Stanze was open to the curious; while Michelangelo left strict orders that no visitors were to be allowed in the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo, busy as a bee himself, consumed with a daunting task, apparently had little interest in Raphael’s work. But Raphael had an interest in his. Raphael paid a secret visit aided by the pope to view Michelangelo’s ceiling in progress. So profoundly did it affect him that he returned to his work in the Stanza della Segnatura (the pope’s private library), where he proceeded to pay tribute to Michelangelo by incorporating a seated figure of Michelangelo in the foreground of his masterpiece fresco, The School of Athens.” (Brenda Harness, Art Historian; http://www.finearttouch.com/Renaissance_Rivals_Raphael_and_Michelangelo.html)

“[Martin] Scorsese entered the Hollywood scene with peers like George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Francis Ford Coppola. Together, they were known as the "Film School Generation," (though Spielberg was actually a dropout) contributing highly to the "New Hollywood Movement" also known as the "American New Wave." These four stormed into Hollywood and quickly made their mark. Along with other filmmakers characterized in the New Hollywood Movement, they brought artistic integrity back into mainstream cinema and changed the way the game was played.” (Luke Hickman; http://bluray.highdefdigest.com/news/show/HDD_Study_Hall/Martin_Scorsese/
Luke_Hickman/Fun_Stuff/HDD_Study_Hall_Martin_Scorsese/8168)

“On a visit to Los Angeles in April, Paul McCartney played [Brian] Wilson a song from [Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band], "She's Leaving Home"; later Wilson was said to be "deeply affected" by hearing a tape of another song, "A Day in the Life". Directly afterward, Smile was abandoned, and Wilson would not return to complete it until 2004, when it was released as a Brian Wilson album of the same name. Van Dyke Parks later noted, "Brian had a nervous collapse. What broke his heart was Sgt. Pepper." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Wilson)

“Though The Beatles stayed fairly up to date on popular music in the early 1960s, Bob Dylan wasn't on their radar until the spring of 1964, a full year after The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan established the young songwriter as American folk music's premier voice. Once the band heard that record, during a tour of France, it had an immediate impact on them. "For three weeks in Paris, we didn't stop playing it," Lennon would later say. "We all went potty about Dylan." The band's early hits, though deceptively complex, were clearly intended for a teenybopper audience more interested in dancing to backbeats than listening to poetry and acoustic guitars. After hearing Freewheelin', The Beatles—and especially John Lennon—were inspired to write more mature, narrative-driven folk songs in the manner of their new hero.” (Scott Beauchamp and Alex Shephard; http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2012/09/bob-dylan-and-john-lennons-weird-one-sided-relationship/262680/)

Through this blog, I spent the last two weeks extoling the music, theater and films that not only entertained me throughout 2012, but in large part sustained me.

Still, on days when I don’t have anything more acute to annoy me, I routinely find myself perplexed by what I perceive as a relative scarcity of newfound artistic brilliance pervading entertainment and cultural realms.

The seeming paradox isn't lost on me and I do not mean to disregard myriad examples of creative excellence exhibited by talented individuals in many fields, nor denigrate the wide variety of performances and creations that truly do enrich my life.

From actors amazing me within storefront theaters, to poets garnering rapt attention at public readings, to painters, photographers and sculptors peddling their wares at art fairs, to rock, jazz, blues, classical and other musicians making people smile—somewhere—every night of the year, and even to TV shows I enjoy week-after-week, there are innumerable “great artists” out there, who I admire and appreciate, many even without any direct awareness.

But while realizing the triteness of perpetually kvetching about how things used to be better, I genuinely believe that when it comes to transcendent artists of recent vintage with a modicum of mainstream relevance, it’s possible we may be at a historically low ebb. (Take a look at my Best Concerts of 2012 and Best Albums, and you'll notice a preponderance of old, or at least well-established, artists, rather than new ones.)

I’m not sure why this is, although I have to imagine the internet is somehow to blame, between splintering our attention, sensationalizing the superficial, simplifying the educational & creation process, abbreviating artistic gestation and aggrandizing the pursuit of the almighty dollar far above any aesthetic appreciation.

Yet this still doesn’t explain to me why I can only name a relative paucity of new artists—perhaps emerging since the turn of the century—who have a fair amount of mainstream acclaim, or who are, to my awareness and assessment, worthy of it.

Practitioners in the following realms used to be widely celebrated, but...

who can you name that has come to attention within the past 10 years or so and shown signs of historic significance in these areas: rock band, jazz musician, folk singer, classical musician, classical composer, Broadway composer, painter, sculptor, poet, movie director, movie star, stand-up comedian, cartoonist, photographer, dancer, architect, playwright and journalist?

If you can cite 10 names, combined, I’d be impressed.

Now, I realize that “historic significance” is open to interpretation and hard to judge without some chronological distance. And I really don’t know if people like Miles Davis, Allan Ginsburg, Roy Lichtenstein, Lenny Bruce, Joan Baez and Leonard Bernstein were truly household names. Perhaps their stature has grown once their legacies were shown to endure.

And I certainly realize my gripes are nothing new. Generation after generation, throughout history, has likely derided the relative fatuousness of subsequent ones. But my point here is really to point out that whether during the actual Renaissance or as exemplified by artistic torrents ranging from Impressionism to Bebop to the first 25-year surge of rock ’n roll, truly transcendent (or even just great) artists rarely developed or existed in a vacuum.

As illustrated by the anecdotes that opened this piece, talented creators—including many of the most historically exalted—have been inspired by their peers. And although nowadays, extraordinary gifted artists will still occasionally rise above the din, I really don’t see much evidence of what I call the “creative cluster effect,” in which great painters or authors or rock bands or movie directors engage in a (real or merely perceived) game of “Can you top this?”

Take for just one example, rock music in the 1960s. The Beatles exploded on the scene, having themselves been influenced by Elvis, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent and other American rock pioneers. After the Beatles came to America in 1964, bands like The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, The Dave Clark 5, Herman’s Hermits, The Hollies, The Yardbirds and The Who would soon follow, and all these years later, much of the music made by these artists still holds up.

Of course, you also had Motown going on, with the Supremes and the Miracles and the Temptations and on and on, as well as other American vocal groups such as the Beach Boys and the Four Seasons. And with the rising tide of Vietnam in the background, Bob Dylan’s reverence for Woody Guthrie helped spur him to bring activism to pop music, with songs like “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “The Times They Are A-Changing” and “Masters of War.”

Over the next decade or so, these artists would directly or indirectly, and perhaps a bit coincidentally, push each other to musical heights that—in breadth and depth, within pop music genres—haven’t been topped since. As referenced at top, Dylan prompted the Beatles to get more political. And the Beach Boys’ brilliant Pet Sounds album clearly helped to inspire Sgt. Pepper’s, upon whose release the breakdown of Brian Wilson showed just how seriously the artists were about competing with each other.

After 2012, a year when I was hard-pressed to compile my Best Albums list with 10 releases I really liked (or at least that I can imagine caring about 5 years hence), it’s hard to fathom a year like 1967.

Take a look at the Wikipedia page for “1967 in Music” as well as the year’s page on the “Best Ever Albums” website. 1967 saw the release of two new albums, each, by the Beatles, Stones, Doors, Jimi Hendrix and Traffic, plus masterpieces from The Velvet Underground, Love, Cream, Leonard Cohen, Jefferson Airplane, Dylan, The Kinks, The Who, The Moody Blues and more.

One of the more astonishing things to think about is that the Are You Experienced? album by the Jimi Hendrix Experience—on which Hendrix introduced a plethora of new sounds—was only a decade removed from Buddy Holly’s astonishing yet much more musically quaint output. Does anything today sound that much different from 2002?

I truly believe the period from 1955-1980 represents a rock ’n roll renaissance that likely will never be seen again. Narrowing it down even just to 1964-1975, the amount of great musical artists who came of age—besides those already mentioned, the Byrds, Creedence, CSN, Neil Young, Elton, Bowie, Queen, Springsteen, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, The Faces, Santana and many others—is rather mindblowing.

Now, I realize that we may very well be in the midst a “Creative Cluster” in the genre of Electronic Dance Music, which isn’t rendered inconsequential by the fact that I don’t care about it.

Similarly, even though it’s also a bit beyond my own personal tastes, I would argue that “Dramatic TV Series created by Cable TV Channels” may be our greatest Creative Cluster of the moment, with shows like Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Dexter, True Blood, The Walking Dead, Sons of Anarchy, etc. supposedly being among the best on TV. It also seems possible that dramatic television is the only artistic genre currently at an all-time peak. (Though for TV itself, I prefer the ’70s sitcom cluster with All in the Family, M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Jeffersons, Sanford & Son, Taxi, Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Mork & Mindy, etc.).

Further countering my own hypothesis, which seems to hold up best largely in the realm of pop music, perhaps the ongoing Technology Cluster that has Apple, Google, Facebook, Microsoft and Amazon continually playing the “Can you top this?” game will go down in history as something of a Renaissance in its own way.

I guess it’s possible that we can only have a certain amount of Creative Clusters at the same time, and they come and go. I mean, if the 1930’s had a cluster of historically significant classical music composers, or the 1970s a cluster of museum-level fine artists, I can’t say that the practitioners of such readily come to mind.

So perhaps it’s just a matter of time before another Nirvana-Pearl Jam-Soundgarden-Alice in Chains-Smashing Pumpkins cluster comes along, or maybe in time I’ll eventually see the Tarantino-Fincher-Aronofsky-Coen Bros. cluster as estimable as the Coppola-Scorsese-Spielberg-Lucas cluster of the early ’70s.

In sum, I’m not really sure what my conclusion is, just that something seems lacking.

Inspiration, perhaps.