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When I was just a wee lad, 16 years old, I worked my first job at a toy store. Lots of us teenagers worked there, because they were busy over the holidays and would hire any schmuck who didn’t show up to the interview nude or drunk. The store also had a lot of employees in their early 30s who worked there for that same reason. Expectations were low, and the employees were high. High on life. And by “life,” I mean marijuana.

The guys in their 30s were, to put it plainly, complete twats. They lived in some sort of vacuum that had kept every bit of modern culture hidden from them since their high school days. They loved Pink Floyd. They’d drone on for hours about how great the band was, and how they were still relevant.

Pink Floyd, of course, was NOT relevant. This was 1995, and Pink Floyd hadn’t released a hit song since 1979. There was a grunge music explosion going on, but none of these guys cared. They loved Pink Floyd. One of them even wrote the lyrics to “Breathe” on the wall of the stockroom with a marker, covering the entire wall with them. They were obsessed with a band whose later albums had been the equivalent of someone queefing into a microphone.

My teenage friends and I would mock them, and pity them. “Who gives a shit about Pink Floyd?” we’d say. “That was 16 years ago. Get your head out of your ass and listen to something new, loser.” They’d argue with us passionately, telling us that our Nirvana and Stone Temple Pilots albums were trash. Pink Floyd was THE BEST, and new music was just a waste of time.

I didn’t think I’d ever come across losers as pathetic as them again. Then I joined Facebook and accepted a bunch of friend requests from people who went to my high school.

Dear friends/acquaintances/girls I wanted to bang but don’t anymore because you’re now obese:  It is with great sadness that now, 17 years after I mocked those lame co-workers, I must hold this intervention. You once mocked those who were out of touch. You once swore you’d never become like them. You once said, “When I’m their age, if I ignore modern music to pine for some irrelevant old band, then just shoot me.” Well open your mouth, friend. Uncle Paul has the shotgun you requested.

I’ve seen your Pearl Jam posts on Facebook, reader. Don’t deny it. I’ve SEEN THEM, and the great embarrassment I have seen cannot be ignored any longer. It all started innocently enough with a few nostalgic posts. “Hey guys, remember ‘Alive’? Great song!” you wrote. Then the endless posts about their upcoming concert, begging people to go with you. Soon you changed your profile picture to the Vitalogy album cover and posted their music videos. The final straw was when you started posting lyrics to their songs and deeply analyzing them, simultaneously boring us while also annoying us with your complaints about how new music pales in comparison.

Allow me to provide some polite criticism, reader: you’re a twat. You’re the worst kind of twat. You’re no different than those Pink Floyd twats. You’ve just substituted Pearl Jam as the band. Fact: the last time Pearl Jam released a hit song was “Do the Evolution” in 1998. Don’t dispute me, twat! I don’t want to hear about “Binaural” in 2000, “Riot Act in 2002, their self-titled album in 2006, or “Backspacer” in 2009. Those albums had no hits. No hits, twat! You hear me? The only people who bought those albums were you. Just you. They only sold one copy, and the band all signed it, “Thanks, twat.”

Here’s another fun fact: it’s been 14 years since Pearl Jam’s last hit. Just like how in 1995, when we were making fun of those Pink Floyd losers, it had been 16 years since Pink Floyd’s last hit. A half dozen major genres of music have come and gone since the grunge era. Back in 1995, the same was true since Pink Floyd’s glory days. Are these situations starting to sound similar?


“But Pearl Jam is still great today,” you’re likely saying in response. “Pink Floyd turned crappy, but Pearl Jam is still making really good music. New music is garbage.” That’s what the Pink Floyd twats said in 1995. The first step to not being a twat is admitting you are a twat. If I don’t intervene now, your next move will be to paint the lyrics to “Rearviewmirror” on the exterior of your car, and no one wants that. Even Eddie Vedder doesn’t want that, and he’s consumed three bottles of wine a day since 1996.

Say it with me: “Pearl Jam is not relevant anymore.” Say it again. Say it until it replaces all the irrational thoughts in your head. They were a legendary band. They have a solid place in rock ‘n’ roll history. Listening to them is fine, but I will not tolerate you parading them around like Easter Jesus. We elderly people are tired of you giving all of us a bad reputation. People who grew up in the Pearl Jam era deserve to get laid, too, you selfish twat.