Were you “Born in the USA?” “Livin’ on a Prayer”? Barreling down “The Highway to Hell”? Perhaps you even played your guitar on MTV alongside Dire Straits. If any of this strikes a chord with you, we’ve journeyed along a similar path.

For us Baby Boomers born in the early 1960s, the music of the ’80s defined our generation. We listened to it on the radio, vinyl albums, cassette tapes and CDs. It’s hard to imagine now, in an era of streaming and downloads, how we ever managed without the internet, Sirius XM or YouTube.

But let’s take a moment to rewind further to the pop icons of the 1970s. As one of the youngest Baby Boomers, I fell head over heels in love with David Cassidy, the Bee Gees, Leif Garrett and especially Andy Gibb. His song “I Just Want to Be Your Everything” was the anthem of my teenage crushes, with Andy’s falsetto voice becoming the soundtrack to my youthful dreams of romance. I wanted nothing more than to be his everything. Ah, the age of innocence!

THEN CAME MTV

On August 1, 1981, Music Television revolutionized our experience of music. The iconic launch image of a rocket blasting off heralded the start of something new as “Video Killed the Radio Star” played on screens across the nation. 

I started tumbling out of the innocence of the ’70s, diving head first into a new world of music. It was a radical shift from teen heartthrobs to rock and roll stars sporting big hair and snakeskin leather pants—and yes, some of the guys even wore makeup! 

My musical tastes evolved dramatically; I went from swooning over Andy Gibb’s ballads to head-banging to AC/DC’s “Back in Black.” Bands like AC/DC, the Scorpions and Guns N’ Roses epitomized the new era of rebellion, becoming the heavy metal rock gods of the day. 

Like many of us of a “generous age,” the 1980s found us in our teens and early 20s, ripe for rebellion and eager to assert ourselves as the next generation of adults.

And like the generations of parents before ours who didn’t like their children’s music, mine were horrified by this gritty over-the-top music I was listening to. It made the ‘50s tunes my mother danced to at sock hops sound like lullabies by comparison. Naturally, their irritation only fueled my desire to crank up the volume even more.

This new sound was incredibly meaningful to me, and I was baffled by my parents’ reactions—shaking their heads and covering their ears, especially when it came to metal music. Some even labeled it “devil worship music,” claiming that if you played the albums backwards, you’d hear “666.” I remember wondering, as I do now, who even thought to listen to albums backwards? Sure, some lyrics were sinister or edgy, and there were rumors of Ozzy Osbourne engaging in shocking stage antics like biting the heads off bats, but devil worship? Really? 

But in the rebellious spirit of Twisted Sister’s anthem, “We’re not gonna take it,” I embraced the music as a way for us “grown-ups” to assert our independence. 

IT WASN’T ALL ABOUT REBELLION

The era also produced some profoundly beautiful and prophetic rock ballads that tugged at my heartstrings and made me reflect on the world around me—songs like Guns N’ Roses’ cover of “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” and Bruce Springsteen’s “The River.” 

Artists like Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band and Bon Jovi became symbols of independence, encouraging me to find my own voice and stand up for myself. The music fueled my desire to rebel against conventional expectations, to challenge my parents’ views and to spend every penny of my allowance on albums. 

Sure, I was the teenager who talked back and slammed doors, but I wasn’t completely defiant. The rock and roll of the ’80s made me feel empowered, as if I were truly taking on the world.

FACE THE MUSIC

Over the years, I’ve tugged my children and grandchildren into my musical orbit—sometimes they’ve come willingly, and other times, not so much. 

’80s music, long heralded as “classic rock,” now shares the label with songs of the ’90s and early 2000s. Yikes! I find myself furrowing my brow and clenching my teeth whenever bands like Pearl Jam, Nirvana or Green Day edge into my ’80s rock reverie. It’s not that I don’t recognize their talent—Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” certainly has its place, but it’s just not the same for me. 

I guess I must face the music:  my beloved classic rock is now, indeed, very classic. Hopefully, it won’t soon be rel egated to the “golden oldies.” 

Despite the shifts in musical epochs, I still love my music. While many friends and family have moved on to today’s alternative scenes, gone country or revisited the folk sounds of the ’70s, none of that stirs my soul quite like the ’80s hits. 

LONG LIVE ROCK ‘N’ ROLL

Maybe I haven’t really grown up—I’m still a die-hard metalhead, a devoted Springsteen fan and crazy for Bon Jovi. Having reached this generous age, I find myself proudly stuck in the ’80s, forever championing it as the “decade of rock”!