1. No, just because a kid says he's "keepin' it real" does not mean he'll never change or grow up. You've never heard of a "sellout" before? Kids need to be part of a small, elite crowd that's in the know. They need to believe they know something the rest of us don't. Thus they have to condemn anybody who grows up and moves on. When I was a kid, I had a shaved head, an earring, dressed all in black and combat boots, wore the beaded necklaces, and a few times even did really smart stuff like paint my fingernails black. (The time we met our new, extremely hot blonde student teacher and the first thing she noticed was my black fingernails cured me of that one.
)
My little sister dressed about the same way. When I went off to college, I slowly devolved toward low maintenance. Long hair, beard, t-shirts and sweaters, jeans, boots. No jewelry. I started to look more like a farmer or a fisherman than a punk. I was still listening to the same music and reading and writing the same poetry (though I had acquired some new tastes to go along with it) but by my sophomore year my little sister was calling me a sellout. She was still dressing like a punk, but she was never too interested in the music or the poetry.
Nowadays she dresses roughly like most people her age. Getting married, getting a job, and growing up took their toll.
2. This stuff about music and youth culture goes back a lot farther than Elvis. Why was Socrates forced to drink hemlock, again?
And does anyone remember what "decent folk" thought of Beethoven when he was still alive and making music? How about Stravinsky?
3. Yes, there is a big difference between Tupac and Bob Dylan. There's also a big difference between Will Smith and Jim Morrison (the guy who was thrown out of Whiskey A Go-Go for screaming
"KILL THE FATHER! **** THE MOTHER!" as he sang "The End," a song that is at least in part about murdering your parents, not to mention Riding the Snake.
4. When Iron Maiden was in the process of recording
Number of the Beast, they were involved in a traffic accident one day. They hit a van, but luckily no one was hurt. To their surprise, the van turned out to be full of a priest and a bunch of nuns, who proceeded to kneel in the roadway and pray for the souls of the band. When all that was straightened out and the vehicle had been repaired (coincidentally about the time the song "Number of the Beast" was being finished up) the bill came to 666 pounds.
The band's manager flatly refused to pay until the bill had been changed to 667.
That has little to do with this topic, but it's a great story.