The Thirtying. It happens to every young urban hipster when his hair starts to fall out, or she realizes that most of the people at the Aesop Rock show weren’t in pre-school yet when Tupac died. It happens when you start to feel empty after the one-night-stands not because that’s part of the script, but because you’re really scared that, if you haven’t stopped doing it by now, when will you? It happens when it stops being satisfying to get off on the existential blunt trauma of working a slacker job, or when the mediocre career-path gig you’ve landed starts to look like the thing you may end up doing into your fifties, unless the economy tanks between now and then. It happens when you start giving a damn about the fucking economy.

It’s inevitable, and it must not be battled. There is nothing to gain from fighting the Thirtying. It happens whether or not you fight it, and to fight it is to live in denial. It is not a tragedy; it only feels like one to people whose lives have thus far been defined by youth culture, and who realize that they will be the Old Dude at the Show soon; that the culture they have participated in will pass them by, and there will be documentary films in a decade or two in which the underground icons they’re into right now will talk about the good old days while wearing a suit and working a software job.

This is going to be an ongoing exploration of how to maintain a vital link to the culture that helped define one’s persona and identity, to continue taking from and giving back to that culture, without denying that one’s role within that culture are going to change.

If you’re already in the midst of the Thirtying, you’ve probably already figured most of this out. If you’re years from having to consider it, well- bookmark this shit, because it’ll happen to you, too.

I am twenty-seven years old and the Thirtying started for me sometime last year. Thirty is a tall peak, and you don’t need to be crashing into it to catch a glimpse of its approach.

I started thinking about the Thirtying recently after watching juno. It’s been on my mind a lot anyway, because of about half of those things in that first paragraph, but juno made me think about how ugly it can be.

If you’ve not seen the film, Jason Bateman plays a character in his mid-thirties who hangs out a bit with the title character, a sixteen year old girl to whom he can only relate by talking about music and movies that happened when she was a child or maybe before she was even born. He wears Soundgarden t-shirts and composes ad jingles and hates his life, etc, living in all-out denial of the fact that the Thirtying is happening to him, too, no matter how many Melvins and Sonic Youth records he may have bought when he was younger and hipper.

In the film, the character is portrayed as a bit of a jackass- not a true villain, but certainly a prick who deserves to get syphilis or maybe just herpes. He’s not likable, and in most mixed cinema audiences, you’ll hear the awful gasp of recognition at various things the guy says and does, and there’ll be a slow procession of Thirtying dudes all walking with a little bit less spring in their step because they caught themselves identifying with the character.

Something that caught my eye afterwards, though, was an article by Jim DeRogatis about the picture that ran in the Chicago Sun-Times:

We’re encouraged to see Bateman as hopelessly immature… because he bails on his obviously troubled marriage when he decides he isn’t ready for fatherhood. His stunted growth is illustrated by the fact that he’s nostalgic for that passé and played-out alternative rock, and he regrets quitting his touring underground band to write commercial jingles. Silly old Gen X’er — doesn’t he know Generation Y has rejected the very notion of “selling out” in the mad rush to buy iPhones, Uggs and Wii consoles?

In the end, in a topsy-turvy movie universe where the teen heroine struts like John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever,” clearing a path in her high school hallway with a pregnant belly she treats as the ultimate outsider status symbol, Bateman’s Loring actually can be seen as a more honest and genuinely rebellious character than Juno. At the very least, you know he has a much better record collection.

This concludes an angry screed in which the forty-five year old rock critic for a mainstream daily tabloid newspaper decries the picture as “anti-rock, at least if we still define rock as an honest expression of youthful rebellion.” He then goes on to conclude that such honest expressions of youthful rebellion are best embodied by Patti Smith and Iggy and the Stooges, because they have “anger” and “lust for life”, unlike Kimya Dawson and the Moldy Peaches, whose songs make up the bulk of the soundtrack and are what Juno mostly seems to listen to.

Bateman’s character in the film seems to share DeRogatis’s opinion on what rock is, and the existence of DeRogatis proves that the character isn’t a straw-man.

And this is why denying the Thirtying is dangerous- because to deny that you’re an outsider, removed from the kids who will always be the ones to define youth culture (which is what rock and roll has always been) leads to hopelessly out-of-touch claims like a middle-aged rock critic boasting that only he knows what honest expressions of youthful rebellion sound like, and that it’s music that was made decades ago by sexagenarians.

“The kids” today aren’t foolish for listening to shit that doesn’t move you, and they’re not phony or insincere or co-opted, either- they’re dealing with a different set of circumstances. If everything you hear the current crop of underclassmen listening to today sounds like a bunch of weak, phony nonsense, it’s probably because you aren’t a part of their world.

Part of working through the Thirtying is accepting that this gap is going to widen. There will be trends you don’t get, and some that you do. One must remain vigilant, and continue to seek out the ones that have some relevance to his life, while being careful not to dismiss those that do not. Similarly, it’s vital to keep from embracing shit that doesn’t move you in an attempt to stay relevant. Just pay attention.

The reason DeRogatis comes off like a clueless asshole is that he forgets that the world that teenagers today are rebelling against isn’t the one he rebelled against thirty years ago. In a world that lacks intimacy or sincerity, a Kimya Dawson song about running into Paul Baribeau in Michigan is aggressive and life-affirming. “Angry” and “lustful” music today is how the army tries to get kids interested in joining up.

Avoid these pitfalls as the Thirtying progresses. It will not be your time again, but that is not a tragedy. There are other things in life that can offer the same rewards, and you will have access to them at the same time that you will be able to choose from the best that contemporary youth culture has to offer. Do not get jaded. Remember- every aging punk rocker who claims that the shit the kids listen to today is soulless just shows that they are unable to accept reality with any grace. The current crop of rebellion is at least partially a rejection of your shit, which is old and codified now.

Be aware of the Thirtying, but do not fear it. It is important and will lead you to interesting places. It may start 362 days after your twenty-ninth birthday, or it may start prematurely, the summer you stop having fun going to the same bar with the friends who haven’t yet moved away for real jobs at 24. When it starts depends on a variety of circumstances, but it is coming, if it is not already here.

- Dan Solomon

Next week- thoughts on how to be a vital contributor to youth culture when one is becoming chronologically separated from its prime adherents.