I’ve given up on Dear John, and instead saw Greenberg this weekend in Millburn, NJ, one of only four theaters in that state playing it. The setup suited my growing agoraphobic purposes just fine—the 10pm Saturday night showing drew about 12 viewers.
Musically, nice use of Galaxie 500 as a mix CD choice. Elderly.
But I was most impressed with the brief Duran Duran interlude, Greenberg’s choice of “coke music” at a party filled with college kids. When I saw him lift the Rio CD I braced for the song of the same name or maybe Hungry Like the Wolf. I wasn’t expecting the slow plodding and pan flute of The Chauffeur. Not a hit, radio song or even played on MTV; the risqué video, all arty nudity and implied lesbianism, was banned.
The kids wanted Korn not Duran Duran, and especially not that Duran Duran. (Amusingly, I just learned on Wikipedia that The Chauffeur is Jonathan Davis of Korn’s favorite Duran Duran song. I even watched him sing it and now feel strange.)
That’s an unanticipated shift. The ‘80s worship I often lament is a product of people born in that decade, childhood music. The progeny of the ‘90s isn’t having any of it. I am bracing myself for ten years of Spice Girls, Collective Soul, 4 Non Blondes. Hmm, I could be offbase since I didn’t listen to the radio in the ‘90s because it was very uncool, but to say such a thing would be very Greenberg.