There are a few times in your life when you suddenly feel “old”.

Finding your first grey hair is probably the first. It’s bad enough finding one on your head but when you find one “south of the border” it’s even more sobering. Followed, of course, by the first time you get pulled over and discover that when the police officer gets up to the car he is obviously younger than you are. And the aggravating thing is even though you’re older you call them “SIR”! Which is not as bad as saying ‘thank you’ for some reason when they hand you the ticket.

But for me the worst realization that I was suddenly “older” was when I realized I didn’t know what the hell was happening in music. At some point in the last few years, I had completely lost touch with what was considered “cool” and “happening” in the music business. And I was pretty upset.

I happened to speaking to someone younger than myself, who mentioned they were going to a concert that weekend. “Oh, who are you going to see?”, I asked. “The Passion Pit!”, he happily declared. The Passion Pit? Who the hell are The Passion Pit? Not only was I kind of upset that I didn’t recognize the name, but I totally felt out of touch when I discovered that they had sold out not one night in NYC that weekend but THREE nights! How could I have never heard of this group that was popular enough to sell out three nights in Manhattan plus have an album that was being raved about online and elsewhere?

Oh, that’s right. I got old.

So, last night as I watched the Grammy Awards sseing Lady GaGa parade about looking like something from a bad 1980’s video on acid and duetting with Elton John, I realized maybe it’s not just me. Back in the 70’s Elton was considered a freak by our parents. Each generation seems to feel the need to create someone or something to rattle the cages of the generations before them. To set them apart. To make them feel as if they are ahead of the curve and hipper than those who came before them.

Because I got a kick later that night on the Grammys seeing the legendary Leon Russell playing with country upstart and Best New Artist winner Zac Brown. I know that there wasn’t a single 20-something hipster doofus dancing down front who had a clue as to who that strange white haired guy playing piano was onstage. And I am sure a number of those same kids later watched Jeff Beck rip through an amazing tribute to the late great Les Paul and thought, “This guy is cool. I wonder if he is Beck’s father.”

Maybe it’s called “classic” rock because to us that’s what it is. Classic. Untouchable. Something from a golden age in our lives that keeps it as fresh and special to us today as it did the first time we heard it 30 years ago. Our music never sounds dated because we carry it with us in our heads and in our hearts all our lives. Which is why, I know deep inside that the first Boston album or even the first RUN-DMC record will make me feel at 90 the way it made me feel at 19.

Now whether or not Lady GaGa’s “Paparazzi” will stand the test of time like The Allman Brother’s “Whipping Post” is something we will have to wait and see. Though to be honest, I am having a hard time imagining GaGa in concert in 2050 , strutting around in her Hefty Bags From Space polyvinyl stage costume and thousands of fans holding up cigarette lighters screaming, “POKER FACE! POKER FACE!”.

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Do yourselves a favor ….

Add some funk and rhythm to your life and pick up anything you can find by Trombone Shorty, Big Sam’s Funky Nation or Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings.