Ageism: What’s Music Got To Do With It?
Ageism is defined as prejudice or discrimination on the grounds of a person's age and the negative effects of ageism are most commonly noted among older adults. We know that ageism has an ugly tradition of working against members of the music industry (and many other industries for that matter), deterring artists over a certain age from trying to continue or begin careers in a historically youth-centric music world. Thankfully, we have plenty of examples of artists who challenge these age-based stereotypes. Take Dolly Parton, who while making popular music at 71 said “After you reach a certain age, they think you’re over. Well, I will never be over. I’ll be making records if I have to sell them out of the trunk of my car. I’ve done that in my past, and I’d do it again”.
But what about the generalizations that get tossed around not about music’s makers, but about all of us music listeners as we age? How do ageist perspectives effect the way we view audiences, peoples’ individual preferences, and taste-making in the arts?
Ageism in general reduces individuals to a prescribed stereotype regarding their age, effectively washing away the traits and interests that make those individuals unique. It’s not hard to imagine then that when applied to the topic of music, ageism gives way to the unfortunate idea that older people all like and dislike the same artists, the same styles, the same music.
But has this ever been true for any group of people of any age anywhere? Well yes and no. There are significant factors that cause groups of people to commune around the same music and to identify with others through a shared love of that music. This happens within the context of culture, region, and story. And historically, common mediums and the availability of music have also created shared tastes in music (Think of radio being the exclusive method of listening to music at home all across the US at one time). These collective experiences and memories surrounding music are beautiful. But within these groups of people that form at any place or time, there are individual preferences. Those are beautiful too. There is the individual who is driven by rhythm. The one who thrives on vocals. The person who is soothed by a low slow cello line. The one who feels alive when they hear a crunchy guitar through big speakers.
While we talk of music’s power for good in the world, we should be careful of its power to generalize. Music is not a container that we put people into. People are the containers. Music flows between us and some of it stays with us. Instead of assuming music preferences along age-lines, use music to discover what you don’t know about someone. Use it to celebrate commonalities and humanize singularities.
Let’s put it one more way. Ageist attitudes and behavior make older adults feel invisible and unseen. Music preferences are a mark of our unique histories and make us feel a sense of belonging as well. History plus belonging is visibility, and so people have always used music to feel seen both as individuals and as members of a society. It is the joint work of artists, critics, and audiences alike then to acknowledge the difference between a collective and a stereotype and to draw a line of visibility between traditions of music and the individual older adults who cultivated those styles in the first place.