This week, I went to the Gaylord Music Library (that weird smelly building on the South 40), took out some music and summarily ripped it all to my hard drive. I probably repeat this process twice a week. This is illegal. I am stealing University property and defrauding the artists who produced the music. Most likely, I will go to hell to be perpetually tortured by Lars Ulrich, drummer of Metallica and notable whiney proponent against music piracy. Even more likely, he will make me wear lederhosen and perform Swedish folk dances in perpetuity for all the other music pirates burning down there.  Still, as iTunes imported my new albums (The Janis Joplin Box Set, Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” Special Edition and Charles Mingus’s “Mingus Ah Um”), I couldn’t help but smile at my small revolution: Students of the world unite! Rise up against the yoke of the $15.99 album, and get at it for free!

Of course, my message is 10-odd years too late. Napster, Kazaa and Limewire were cool in middle school but inevitably caused more problems than they solved. After a few years of rampant music downloading, your computer was probably more riddled with viruses than a public toilet seat. Enter Apple, the master of corporate chic—leave it to these guys to piggyback on a social phenomenon, refashion it in sleek and shiny packaging and then make a quick buck off it. But what amazes me the most is that people actually buy into the iTunes model. People who used to get music for free now pay over a buck per tune—which can add up to hundreds or even thousands of dollars.

I only say all this to paint a picture of today’s music-listening culture. People can get any album they want within seconds. People can tell you exactly how many Bruce songs they have in their library or how many live Dead shows they own. And, as evidenced by the wild success of iTunes and the iPod (200 friggin’ dollars!), people are willing to pay. I paid $75 to see Phish this summer, and sure I got my fix of Woodstock-y, communal hippie-ism, but I still spent an exorbitant amount on my ticket—a goofy e-ticket printout nonetheless—and paid $8 for a hot dog. This was kind of a cop-out. What happened to music for the masses, music that the poor, starving bohemian culture could also afford?

And furthermore, whatever happened to the rock musician as a true international superstar whose opinions people actually cared about? Forty years ago, people went crazy over John Lennon’s “Bed-ins,” during which he and Yoko spent a week in bed protesting war. These days, I just want to hear a band play and not tell me to vote or why Bush sucks. When I hear Bono talk about Africa, all I want to do is choke-a-lass.

Rock music has outgrown its adolescence. It’s no longer excited by its own novelty. The loudness of Jimi’s guitar, the blues-rock of Zeppelin, the profundity of Dylan and countless other rock-isms have been thoroughly canonized. Though they will always light a fire in any teenager’s heart—we’ve all felt it—they are not new.

Now that society knows what it means to rock, it demands perfection and originality from its music. If I don’t like your 30-second clip on iTunes, I’ve already moved on. Take the recent “mashup” and “sampling” phenomenon. Artists (and I use the term loosely) only choose the best parts of a song to sample, perfect for today’s ADD-ridden music listeners.

Tomorrow, you will all (God willing) make it to Brookings Quad to hear Passion Pit, a rock band whose techno/dance feel sometimes sounds like it was produced by a computer, not by instruments. In your mind, juxtapose classic rock with this new music; you will find it difficult to believe that both are roughly categorized as “rock.” This music (and others, too) modifies—or even departs from—the central “rock-isms” I’ve discussed.

Observed holistically, however, we see how rock music has progressed along the same development path of any art form; newness comes as a reaction to oldness, which was a reaction to something older, and so on. So wake up tomorrow, imbibe the sweet nectar of our youth, and check out some good tunes at W.I.L.D. But remember, whether it’s fresh or not, what you’re hearing is in many ways an interpretation of the past. Rock on.

Alex is a junior in Arts & Sciences. He can be reached via e-mail at abgreenberg@gmail.com.