Totes not about me.

McSweeney’s on what even is Classic Rock now.

Back in my day, we knew what classic rock was. It’s Fleetwood Mac. It’s Zeppelin. It’s the music my father—may he rest in peace—listened to when he was young. It’s fun because it’s old and sort of unrelatable. But listen to this ’90s song playing now: Gwen’s talking about screening her phone calls. Like on an answering machine. Those old farts didn’t even have answering machines in the classic rock days. So how, pray tell, could this be classic rock?! And why, I ask you, does it need to be so loud?