We Gen Xers supposedly raised ourselves, and we have convinced ourselves we are fiercely independent thinkers unfazed by what we hear, see, or read in the media. You can’t offend us, and you can’t tell us what to do. We’re Generation X. We grew up on Saturday Night Live, Eddie Murphy, Sam Kinison, and Dice Clay. Nothing triggers us.
I’m talking about (and to) us, specifically my fellow Gen Xers who were headbangers. We have lived long enough to become parents and grandparents. We differ in many ways from our progenitors, but a common trait is the desire to protect our young ones from the forces of evil. Before the so-called culture wars, our Greatest Generation grandparents battled what many of them sincerely believed was the devil’s music, horrified at first by Elvis’ gyrations and then later mystified by the Beatles’ anti-establishment countercultural influence. Our Boomer parents arguably had an even harder fight shielding us metalheads against Satan’s influence. Or at the least, music they didn’t like: “It’s just unintelligible screaming accompanied by loud guitars.”
Remember the Satanic Panic of the ’80s? The devil was everywhere back then, especially in small towns in the Bible Belt, and he traveled through a metal conduit. I always wanted to ask concerned adults why they thought our little patch of soil was so important that the Prince of Darkness himself dropped everything to tempt me and my friends to do what, exactly? Steal a tractor? Tip cows?
Disclaimer: Metal did inspire me to commit theft. After hearing Iron Maiden’s version of “Rime of the Ancient Mariner“, I lifted an old literature textbook containing Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s complete poem off a shelf when the teacher wasn’t looking (sorry, Mrs. Ingram). I still have it.
It wasn’t as if His Satanic Majesty hadn’t been around for a while. The shtick of finding evil in a record’s grooves was well-worn by the time the cassette generation came along. Some of Satan’s most influential minstrels were holdovers from the late ’60s and early ’70s, which seemed forever ago, even in the ’80s. The Rolling Stones sympathized with the devil in 1968, the year some historians consider the worst in human history (Perhaps not coincidentally, the year I and many of my friends were born. Make of that what you will.). Supposedly, three-fourths of Led Zeppelin were devil-worshippers. Black Sabbath’s very name referred to diabolic rites.
Speaking of Black Sabbath, singer Ronnie James Dio started using metal’s iconic two-finger salute in 1979. Throwing the horns served a dual purpose for Dio: it was his way of differentiating himself from the man he had replaced in Black Sabbath (Ozzy Osbourne flashed the peace sign a lot), and it was an homage to Dio’s Italian grandmother, who often used the gesture to ward off the evil eye.
We Gen X metalheads heard that KISS meant Knights In Satan’s Service a thousand times. (When I stopped drawing band logos on my school desk long enough to pay attention in English class, I became more concerned by the capitalized preposition in the middle of the name than by any supposed Satanic influence. I guess Ol’ Scratch isn’t a grammarian.) Van Halen were jumping in 1984, but they were jogging with Satan in 1978 to the tune of “Runnin’ with the Devil“. And we all knew what that dude did onstage at the Alice Cooper show in Memphis/Birmingham/New Orleans/St. Louis/Atlanta. My cousin’s girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend’s uncle was there – he saw that man chomp down on that urban chicken!
Nobody younger than 20 took any of this seriously. We laughed when our elders shook their heads and said, “Kids these days…” But now that our lives have drawn out to where we’re the elders and some of us are saying “Kids these days,” we’ve become the joke. And the punchline ain’t funny.
The adults’ backlash against our music sometimes backfired. I first heard of Slayer in a church in Tupelo, Mississippi, three miles from Elvis’ birthplace. A former rock musician turned evangelist was the visiting preacher that night. He had traveled from out of state at his own expense (but a love offering was taken to offset those expenses, of course), and his sermon was a warning about metal’s Satanic influence. He used Slayer as a specific example. I thought, man, I need to check that band out.
To be fair to our elders, some of the 80s metal acts did use Satanic imagery. We kids were in on the joke, and we goofed around on the gimmick. In addition to our favorite group’s logos, my best friend and I used to draw pentagrams on our school desks and the occasional wall and locker (sorry, Mr. Morgan), just to get a reaction. But groups such as Slayer, Grim Reaper, and Venom at least pretended to be true believers. Mötley Crüe did have a pentagram on at least one of their album covers, 1983’s Shout at the Devil, originally named Shout With the Devil, but that spooked Elektra, their label. Come to think of it, maybe W.A.S.P. really was an acronym for We Are Satan’s People.
I’m a lapsed Protestant (that sounds fancier than “backslidden Baptist”), but now that I am also a parent and grandparent, our churchgoing parents’ and grandparents’ concern is understandable given the fear-mongering of those days. So when I began hearing of a recent Satanic influence on the youth of today, I felt nostalgic. Curious, I wanted to know who the newest soldier in Lucifer’s dark army was.
I pride myself on (somewhat) keeping up with new performers (read: acts who have debuted since I graduated). Is the latest musical artist to proselytize in Satan’s name Tobias Forge’s band Ghost? I can see how the liturgical worshippers of my generation might think that what with Forge dressing as an evil Pope and using (yawn) pentagrams and inverted crosses as props. Or maybe it’s Slaughter to Prevail. (Those masks! And vocalist Alex Terrible sounds like Satan belching after chugging bargain-brand beer.)
Is it Squid Pisser? Their melodically crafted tune “Liquified Remains” is a poetic ode to the contemporary existentialist battle against an uncaring universe. Or the dude that killed his roommate and clogged up the garbage disposal with his body. Hell, I can’t tell. It’s just unintelligible screaming accompanied by loud guitars. Wait…
Or perhaps this current malevolent influence is one of the second-wave Norwegian black metal bands, some of whom burned churches (supposedly) as a socio-politico-religious statement. Whoever it is must be evil incarnate to trigger so many of my headbanging, hard-partying peers that they are now genuinely concerned for the souls of their progeny.
I dug deeply into multiple sources to find this newest threat to today’s youth. Actually, I just read a couple of online articles and a few semi-hysteric social media posts because we all know everything on social media is true, and found this current threat to be: Taylor Swift.
Really? Taylor Swift as the devil is the worst that aging Gen Xers can do?
Some among us use tired clichés to justify our need for ragegasms. Time has caught up with us Gen Xers, and some feel it’s our turn to be bitter old coots. Pop music, in general, has always been viewed as evil by certain segments of the population (read: self-righteous old farts). Some among us have the hypocrisy to call today’s youth soft. If they are, it’s because fear-mongering idiots are teaching them to beware of Taylor Freakin’ Swift. If it’s true that those who fail to learn from history end up repeating it, some Gen Xers are getting worse marks than their elders. At least our parents, grandparents, and teachers were battling semi-plausible evil.
I mentioned Elvis earlier, rock’s original bad boy, but we don’t have to go back that far. Let’s revisit our youth. Released by the Parent’s Music Resource Center (PMRC) at the height of the Satanic Panic, the Filthy Fifteen, a list of songs that were supposedly the worst of the worst, wasn’t comprised solely of metal acts. Pop artists Prince, Sheena Easton (with a tune written by the Purple One), and Madonna were there alongside the aforementioned Motley Crue and W.A.S.P. Organized by members of both major American political parties, PMRC congressional meetings took place during my senior year of high school. The author of one of the Filthy Fifteen songs and singer of one of my favorite bands, Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider, testified to the congressional subcommittee and the PMRC. Time magazine ran the story and included a photo of Snider’s appearance. I tore the photo from the school library’s copy of Time (sorry, Ms. Williams) and carried it in my wallet for the rest of the year.
I say all this to ask my fellow Gen X headbangers: What happened to us? We shouted at the devil while riding the crazy train on the highway to Hell. We knew the number of the beast. We were the last in line.
But now we’re feeling threatened by a pop star we will never meet?
Though her music was never on my radar, nobody lives in a vacuum, especially in the Internet Age, and I became aware of Taylor Swift through the Becky meme, which is still one of the funniest social media posts in online history. Just like I knew who Taylor Swift was before this foolishness began, I know why some of my co-elders joined this clown show. It has nothing to do with Satan. They hate Taylor Swift because a certain media segment told them to hate her. That’s scarier than any supposed link she has to the dark arts.
Taylor Swift encourages young people to vote, and she dates a politically moderate football player. Let’s be honest: ten years ago, Gen Exers didn’t give a Ratt’s ass about Taylor Swift if they even knew who she was. And unlike the good old days of Satan-shaming and devil-baiting when the zealotry was at least somewhat bipartisan, the vituperation against this young woman is attempted character assassination of a perceived ideological enemy in today’s culture wars.
Taylor Swift does sometimes use quasi-religious references. But anyone twisting those lyrics into anything resembling Satanism probably still believes the Alice Cooper coprophagia story. Taylor Swift (or the protagonist in her songs) is no more a Satanist than Tobias Forge is the Pope.
Someone said Taylor Swift performed a satanic ritual on stage. Is that person now receiving a lot of Clicks, Likes, Comments, and requests to speak at churches and youth organizations? For a modest love offering, of course…
Someone said Taylor Swift threw the devil horns in one of her shows. Is that the same hand gesture we’ve made at every show since Ronnie James started doing it in the ’70s? We turned out alright (some of us, anyway), and that same gesture is used at concerts of almost every musical genre these days.
Taylor Swift mostly comes across as a (surprise!) angsty young woman trying to navigate a morass of interpersonal relationships. She’s mostly singing to her target audience: angsty young females. Music is like humor: it’s not for you if you don’t get it.
Pop music has always been a young person’s medium. One of the harshest realities of growing old is the realization that we are no longer as cool as we used to be. It’s creepy to see borderline-elderly men hating on a woman as young as (if not younger than) their daughters. Taylor Swift reminds us of the pretty girls who turned us down in high school. And yes, we are borderline elderly. Think we’re middle-aged because we’re “only” 56? 56 is middle-aged only if we live to be 112.
I have never taken seriously anyone who tries to tell me what to listen to, watch, or read. They damn sure ain’t going to tell me what to think. I’m Gen X, man. When the Taylor Satan crap began, I reverted to that 17-year-old who sought out Slayer because an adult told me not to. It has nothing to do with religion. Believe whatever the hell (I got a million of ’em) you want. Just get some perspective. Some Gen Xers have watched Footloose a hundred times and still identify with Ren even though we’ve become living caricatures of Reverend Moore. At least he had enough sense to change his mind when he calmed down.
For whom it may apply amongst my fellow Gen Exers, there’s a three-step process for getting past this asininity. First, pull your head out of your ass. Then shake it off. Finally, bang your head.
Ronnie was right, man. We are the last in line.