Our second child was born at the end of January.
Mom and baby are well.
And the sleepless nights are here.
At 3 AM, I have found myself wondering:
What will the future will look like for my newborn son and his brother (who is only 3 and a half)?
Here are 20 predictions:
Their generation will have the first Number One song created by AI.
Imagine the comment section back at the mothership.
The dominant medium/format will be something akin to a beam or wave, which will transmit a song “directly” to you. Imagine just thinking of a song and then instantly hearing it (as if you had headphones on).
Beam or wave “curators” (some consisting of AI) will become superstars.
The Estate of Neil Young pulls his entire catalogue from beam/wave transmission, citing (what else?) inferior sound quality.
My sons will laugh at vinyl having made a comeback.
Everyone from the classic rock era will be gone.
Except for maybe Keith Richards.
Classic rock will be as ancient to them as the big band era is to us.
Speaking of rock:
All the girls who picked up the guitar during the pandemic will be making some great rock music.
Speaking of the pandemic:
The successor to Kendrick Lamar will have released a 25 track epic about life under quarantine, with Kendrick Lamar coming out of retirement for a few tracks.
July 31, 2031. The last Pearl Jam show.
At Soldier’s Field.
In a “coming full circle” moment, the last song played is “Hunger Strike”. Toni Cornell sings her late father’s parts beautifully.
John Mayer is still touring.
Billie Elish’s comeback includes a performance with the London Symphony Orchestra.
Something happens between Elon Musk and Halsey.
My sons ask me: “Whatever happened to Radiohead?“
I am shocked when I can only reply: “I don’t know.”
Surprisingly, not even Google will know the answer.
Soul music will have a comeback. This dovetails into a sense of optimism that permeates their generation, Generation Alpha.
It will be nice to hear how Stevie Wonder’s amazing run of albums from the 70s will create a touchstone or connection with my parents/their grandparents.
A dinner guest waxes nostalgic for the Grammys.
One of my sons asks: “what the heck is a Grammy?
I ask: who the heck invited that guy?
Scientists have perfected resurrection following cryogenic freezing. Bono volunteers.
The scientists refuse, ostensibly because of Bono’s age. But we all know they refuse because they (and us) would only want to preserve Achtung Baby-era Bono/the Fly.
Anthony Keidis also volunteers. The scientists pretend they didn’t hear anything. The world patiently waits for Beyonce to call the scientists.
Before his retirement, Dr. Dre remixes a long-lost Prince album.
Who are they?
They are to Nirvana what Greta van Fleet is to Led Zeppelin.
Judge for yourself when they arrive.
The progeny of Taylor Swift will have an inordinate amount of control over concert tickets.
Sometime in 2026, My Bloody Valentine release another record.
Assuming commercial space flight is real:
…The Flaming Lips / Wayne Coyne will end their career with a Las Vegas-style residency.
20. My sons find a copy of Kind of Blue.
And it begins.
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