Musical Discovery and the Crime of Gatekeeping

By Jeremy Ritch

I’m a later Gen Xer born in 1975, but it still is my generation. For years the later members of this generation tended to feel just as much a part as the older members. That changed a bit when the much larger and closer to my age Millennial generation came to be in the early 80’s and 90’s.

Many of my Gen X friends began to shit on the Millennials, calling them lazy, whiny, and weak. The same words we heard from those who came before us in my parents’ generation. The gatekeeping usually centered around pretentiousness within pop culture, underground music, or the all American trop of boot strap work ethic. My friends were both older and younger, from late early X to later Millennial. Most critics were not even aware of the generational math, just they saw themselves as elite to those younger. Some even call Gen Z or the current generation millennials. This is a clue into the pitfalls of gatekeeping.

Beyond Labels

I’ve personally never cared much for labeling myself. Be it by generation, subculture, or even gender. These constructs do more damage than good. Growing up in the 80’s and 90s, music was my passion. I would listen to just about anything I could get my hands on.

I began my musical journey as most do with a hodgepodge of my parents’ music. Motown, oldies radio, and classic country was the first big influence on my childhood. I remember listening to the Supremes and Smokey Robinson & The Miracles. My mother’s music. My father was also a Motown guy, but he loved country music. George Jones, Merle Haggard, and more obscure stuff like Mo Bandy caught my ears in those early days. As my family changed so did the soundtrack.

Early Exposure

My mother was a single mom, even while married the last years my dad was around. Her music became melancholier. Heartbreak songs from Air Supply, Kenny Rogers, and Eric Carmen plus her newfound evangelical faith led her to The Imperials, Petra, and Randy Stonehill.

My stepfather who came into the picture about 1982 was also a newly converted Christian, he loved the softer 70’s rock like Bread, America, but did have a Meatloaf tape he would play as we rode in his car to go to Seaworld or the Cleveland Zoo. My father’s music was still just country mainly. He’d take us to the Moose Lodge where we’d play the jukebox and listen to barroom music and 70’s sad songs. Music was always part of my life.

I had several albums, mostly children’s stuff. Tom T. Hall’s “Sneaky Snake” was a big hit. Also, the amazing Sesame Street albums like “Born to Add” really peaked my young ears. My mom had an old box of 45’s that included a variety of stuff.

Elvis and the Outlaw

The first record I ever remember just losing myself to was Elvis Presley’s “(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear”. I’d dance around with my own teddy bear to the song. I was obsessed with the rhythm, the song of that “hubba hubba” voice that Presley had. I loved the RCA dog on the inner label. It was a magical moment.

I also was fond of a song called “Movin’ On’ which was a Merle Haggard trucker anthem, which is quite problematic reading the lyrics as an adult. As a kid in the late 70’s early 80’s though it was a way to escape the obvious demise of my family unit. I would make a truck from a cardboard box, put my stuffed monkey next to me, perhaps a homage to Clint Eastwood’s “Every Which Way but Loose”, then drift into the world of long-haul trucking.

Changes

By 83-84 I was in elementary school, having moved a lot as my mom remarried my stepfather. We bounced around school districts and finally settled in a southeast suburb touching the Cleveland border. It was a very different place than I had lived until then.

I had never saw a black person until we moved there and now, they were my neighbors on all sides. I quickly found some playmates and found out the racism that was quite real thrusted towards the young black families that made up most of my neighborhood and the old white folks who didn’t want change. This was a different kind of gatekeeping, one that was deeper than I understood. I just wanted friends and we shared our love of sports, skateboards, and music.

Stacy Inspires

Around this time my parents, who were newly married went out occasionally and would get babysitters for my brothers and me. My older brother was nearly a teen, so the sitters were mostly for my little brother who was barely 4 and myself who was 8. We had a few different sitters, but one was quite memorable.

Her name was Stacey, she was a teenager into new wave and punk rock. She reminded me of Cyndi Lauper with hew mixed-matched clothes, make-up, and general vibe. I had fallen in love with MTV while in transition to our new home. My uncle Gene put us up for a time before we got our own home. He had cable. MTV had just begun; I was instantly hooked much to my mother’s dismay. I would watch every video I could before often being instructed to turn it off. Lauper, Prince, The Bogles, The Pretenders, Joan Jett, and even Rod Stewarts creepy “Tonight’s The Night” video just sucked me in.

Stacey would watch MTV with us, play her tapes of New Wave and punk music. I remember feeling rebellious listening to it. My older brother hiding in his room, my younger playing games and being a little kid. I wanted to know what her deal was.

She must’ve noticed my intrigue to her whole subculture because she slipped me a tape of bands she listened too. I don’t remember why or how it happened, but that tape changed my life. I popped it in my little tape player in my attic room I shared with my brother. It was exhilarating. Elvis Costello, Adam Ant, Billy Idol, Joe Jackson, Generation X, and more. I didn’t know what this was, but I wanted to be immersed in it immediately.

Discovery Continues

I would sneak MTV into my days, watching at friends’ houses too. I played records a lot, listening to tapes every day. Everything from my babysitter’s new wave to Amy Grant and my mother’s Christian Contemporary.

My older brother was into metal. Metallica, iron Maiden and Christian glam rockers Stryper.

My other babysitter was black girl nicknamed Popsicle. Not sure why that was her name, and I don’t recall her actual name. She would inadvertently introduce me to hip hop and 80’s R&B. I became a fan of RUN DMC, Dana Dane, and Doug E. Fresh. Her mother Classy, was a single mom of two. Her eldest son whose name escapes me was a drummer. He gave me a bunch of posters and some records once. The poster I remember was a huge Huey Lewis one. I put it on my ceiling and dreamt of being a rock star. He also introduced me to funk and rock music. Parliament, James Brown, Rick James, and Jimi Hendrix.

Radio, Punk, and Mixtapes

I loved the radio, by my teens I was listening to college stations WCSB, WRUW, and WJCU. They would have these sullen DJ’s mumbling about music, playing weird stuff like Dead Milkmen, Husker Du, and Black Flag.

My brother also was starting to find his way into punk, heavier metal, and became the anti-pop gatekeeper. His friends were determined to kill pop music and hip hop. I was rebellious and embraced the new rap craze as our own punk music. By my teens I was a hip-hop fanatic, which also served as my education into Black issues thanks to Public Enemy, Krs-One, and many others. My best friend at that time was an Indian kid named Aman who had so many hip-hop tapes. He regularly traveled to the East Coast and London with his family, so he’d bring back albums and mixtapes.

Friends on the Right Side of Wrong

Around that time in junior high I had a bunch of skater friends who I’d spend time with. They would smoke cigarettes and weed, listening to hip hop and a new obsession, hardcore. My friends gave me tapes of bands like Minor Threat and Dag Nasty from DC. We eventually found our local scene in Cleveland.

Bands like The Spud Monsters, Integrity, and a local satirical band called Hostile Omish. Older kids invited us to skateparks where all ages show happened. Then all ages club shows where I was exposed to touring New York bands like Gorilla Biscuits, Judge, Chain of Strength, to name a few. I had gone to these under the white lies and omissions to my parents who wouldn’t have understood the community that was the hardcore scene. My mother was pretty much anti-secular music for the most part.

Throughout the next few years, it was the older kids that gave me the opening to my musical development. I was exposed to Fugazi, Nirvana, and the grunge thing by being taken to concerts, given tapes, and eventually buying my own. My entire high school musical journey was thanks sharing music and being “let in” the scene.

I also discovered Christian bands that weren’t terribly cheesy. Bands that sounded like my music were developing in the Christian underground. I bought a lot from a friend who worked at the Christian bookstore. He was older but loved good music. They were the first store that I remembered carrying U2 or Bob Dylan’s Christian 80’s records. I had access to so many genres and I never was pinned down. Cleveland was buzzing with good music, good venues, and someone older was always willing to help me find a new band.

Insider Inspiring

I was writing for zines, making my own, calling bands up to interview them. By the end of high school, I landed a job at a local record store. It was a dream job, and I met my friend Darrell who is several years my senior and was a House music DJ.

He taught me the ropes of the industry from a promotion and club scene standpoint. I fell in love with house music as well. He also worked for several music related jobs, so we would go to concerts. He taught me how to work my way into shows by just looking like I should be there. I used those skills and my fake ass zine credentials to make connections. I met a lot of people through those “fake it til ya make it” schemes. The highlight maybe was briefly encountering David Bowie backstage at a show. It was magical.

From there I became a promoter, a writer, and did management. I booked tours and I toured with bands from time to time. I collected records which I still have. I fell in love with music. I fell in love with Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, and a host of amazing influential artists. I tried to book shows that the kids wanted to see. I would walk around and ask, “Who do you want to see?” This led me in my 20’s and 30’s to booking some bands that became huge. My Chemical Romance might be the biggest and I got them with two others for $450. Giving them their first show in Atlanta when I was living there.

Gatekeeping Bores

The point I really want to make here isn’t about me though or my many musical experiences. It is that none of it would have happened if people, mostly older than me, hadn’t opened the door, and pushed me in. The lack of gatekeeping and generational discrimination allowed me to have these wonderful moments. I think everyone can learn a lesson from this.

Don’t keep people from your music, old and young. I still love learning new music from the new generations. I go to a university full of young minds and they turn me on to so much I wouldn’t know if they didn’t share. Don’t ever become a “It was better in my day” bore and share that knowledge of music with the younger generations. It will change lives. It changed mine.

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