I digress.
When a band forms or people write music and get signed at age 19, they'll more often than not look towards their childhood or something that impacted them in their past in order to express themselves; memories are all we have, after all. They'll write about being teenagers and doing dumb things like falling in love, cocaine, or both, because writing music is a good way to express yourself -- evidenced by the sheer volume at which it's written by people across the globe and the need to strike a chord (which is something else in and of itself). None of these concepts have really ever changed from generation to generation; in fact, they've only gotten more prevalent as more people have access to more music and more people have the resources to make such music. The fact that we can all relate to such things is a crazy concept -- and yet, the idea of laboring over thoughts of falling in love doesn't seem to really fit in with today's culture.
When one thinks of America, one can likely point to economic prosperity and growth as at least an endearing trait that lasts into today, whether from the perspective of an immigrant or a middle-class kid that's heard about it from inside his white picket fence. In such a booming and exhilarating economy, there's room to do about anything, anywhere. It's the great big city, or suburbs, whatever you want... It's the luxury to stay awake into the wee hours of the night improving yourself, monetarily or otherwise, and fall asleep on a nice queen-sized bed, provided that you've earned it.
In such a place, the growth is limitless. You can turn the name of your daughter into a multi-billion dollar corporation and synonymize anyone else that tries to steal your daughter's name with greasy chicken nuggets. You can be a millionaire and have your daughter represent dollar signs. That's the American Dream on steroids. That's breaking the home run record without compromising the size of your genitalia. That's good stuff.
But in such a place, there's no break. Everyone's trying to make their kids' names unique. Everyone's trying to be the home run king -- or, the cash king. It doesn't matter if you fall. The world still turns. It's a dog-eat-dog market, and it's the first thing we're taught about anything concerning the economy.
So when we do get a break, or when we can drive home and be relatively alone compared to the hustle of work or the American economy, there's reason to believe one would want to indulge a little bit. In a lot of cases, the car radio can be a source of such. Songs about car radios being stolen can become popular because of the message that the victim can't escape his own thoughts, as was shown by Twenty One Pilots' song. If all we have are memories or thoughts, what is there to write a song on? If that's all there is write on, what is there to listen to? To think about?
Two of the most elemental parts of the human experience are individuality and memories, which go hand in hand. I'd write about Wendy's because to me it represents a simpler time in my life where I didn't have to care as much, I didn't have to try so hard (I'll probably be eating my words when I'm 40). We all have our Wendy's. If it's the park by your childhood home, if it's your high school, if it's a long-thrown out kiddie bike, cool. Isn't everyone vulnerable to the simpler times in their life? What's there to worry about if everyone's just as shaky as we are? What's the value in this corporate-sponsored rat race of America, or of whatever other country for that matter, if we're all just trying to be teenagers dodging cars in front of the Wendy's? Is that why I have Can't Stop, Won't Stop by The Maine on repeat right now?
Striking a chord is necessary, but it's easier with the collectivization or centralization of peoples' lives, even if it doesn't seem like that's happening. Music is one of the only outlets that allows for a break or exposure of whatever vulnerability we have -- but maybe it wouldn't be allowed at all if it wasn't kept out of some other sectors of economy and life.
