The Joy of Discovery Never Has to End

Dusty Henry on how new music discovery keeps us young

You may remember this post from January where I demanded that we “de-whelm” our listening in 2026 — to think about how to be mindful in our music consumption, keep joy in discovery, make room for the new without abandoning the old, etc. etc.

I’ve started asking some guests to help me tackle these topics from their perspectives. Today, please welcome Dusty Henry, comic writer and author of 20th Century Ambient to New Bands for Old Heads.

xo
Gabbie

I remember the first time I was called an “old head.” It wasn’t too long ago.

Early last year, I went with a couple of friends to see Brooklyn rapper MIKE play a show at The Crocodile in Seattle. My friend Martin showed me his stuff a few years prior. Since then, we’d followed his work religiously and were so excited to see him garnering more acclaim, especially with his most recent album, SHOWBIZ!. We stood at the back of the crowded venue as Martin’s friend Scarlett came over with some soda waters.

Moments later, a young guy spots us and walks over, eager to find out how we were able to sneak drinks from the bar at this all-ages show. We told him it was just soda water, which he didn’t believe. Again, he pressed us on our contraband technique. Again, we told him it was just soda water.

“Oh, so you guys are old heads,” he said with a smile, then walked away.

What a bomb to drop on someone. I don’t think any of us had ever been called “old heads” before. But then I looked around at the crowd. Almost everyone there was at least a decade younger than us. It was a mixed bag of feelings.

I’d spent most of my music-loving life trying to avoid getting stale and stagnant. Especially in recent years, I’ve found more and more people my age voicing that they “don’t have time for new music.” I didn’t want that fate. So it stung a bit.

It felt like that scene near the end of Saving Private Ryan where Matt Damon’s face morphs from a strapping young soldier to an old man. Was “old head” meant to be an insult? Or was it a sign of respect that “old heads like us” would come to a show like this?

By the time the show started, all of those feelings started to fall away. But I think about that moment every now and then. I’m 36, and I don’t feel old. But I see the temptation to identify as “old.”¹ Even in my 20s, it wasn’t uncommon for my friends and me to comment about how we felt too old to be at certain music festivals. Like it was some badge of honor to prefer staying in rather than dancing the night away with reckless abandon.

I understand we’re all built differently. And look, I have a young kid and a full-time job. I’d say I’m tired roughly 110% of the time. Dancing at the club until the early AM is (probably) not going to happen anymore. But this isn’t a death knell for music discovery. If anything, it’s the time to double down.

Being an old head isn’t an inherently bad thing. It can even be really cool! The passage of time comes for us all. Getting older doesn’t mean you stop trying new things. In fact, I think it’s an advantage.

When you’re young, everything is new. When I was a teenager and found a new band I fell in love with, it was like I was discovering a whole new world. I didn’t have to think about Interpol sounding like Joy Division because I didn’t know who Joy Division was. Everything was fresh.

It actually used to irritate me when “old heads” would tell me that whatever I was listening to was derivative of something else. But I came to really look up to people who had vast music knowledge, who instead of berating a young kid like myself for not knowing The Modern Lovers would help guide me and take me deeper into these spheres of music.

The benefit of being an old head is that you’ve lived a life; you’ve discovered lots of great music and ideas already. There’s, of course, always going to be more to discover. But you’ve developed your taste to a point where you know better what you might like. Instead of letting age be your barrier, let it be your confidant. Instead of shrugging off a new band for being too much like something you heard years ago, take that perspective and lean in.

How are these new generations of artists building off the foundation you grew up on?

What new perspective are they bringing?

On the other end of things, music discovery is a great way to open yourself up and feed that fresh, young, wide-eyed person who still exists somewhere inside you. You may feel like you’ve seen it all and heard it all, but I can guarantee you haven’t. With billions of people in the world and new means of access all over the globe, I guarantee you there’s someone out there creating something you could have never imagined.

Art is our mirror to the world, and music is one of the most prevalent, easily accessible, and vital forms of art out there.

In an era of overconsumption, I understand the compulsion to stick with what you know. Trying to keep up is nearly impossible given the constant deluge of music, movies, shows, short videos, social posts, and a billion other things being thrown at us every day. Trying to take in everything made in the last year alone would take you a lifetime.

But just because we can’t take in everything doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to seek out the good stuff in this digital pile-up.

Art is our mirror to the world, and music is one of the most prevalent, easily accessible, and vital forms of art out there.

You’re two clicks on your phone away from a whole new world of sounds and ideas. It can be overwhelming, but you don’t have to do it alone. Even in the busy fray of life, you can find curators or trusted voices to help you discover great music. Or you can take it a step further and build your own practice.

Most of us won’t have the same free time we had to seek out new music like we did when we were kids. But that doesn’t mean the party’s over.

Last year, I had the chance to talk with Kai Slater of the groups Sharp Pins and Lifeguard, and he said something to me that really reframed the whole idea of getting older and loving music.

Kai Slater (via Heliogàbal)

At the time of the interview, Slater was just 20 years old. It’s weird how nervous that made me, wondering if I could keep up with someone so young and in the throes of a creative hot streak. But we talked about the nature of age and art, particularly through the lens of the Sharp Pins song “I Can’t Stop.” I asked him to break down what he meant when he sings, “I don’t wanna get older no more.”

“The way that you remain young is by staying in touch with your creative side,” he told me over the phone. “If I were to stop that, I would surely die.”

“The way that you remain young is by staying in touch with your creative side. If I were to stop that, I would surely die.” -Kai Slater (Sharp Pins, Lifeguard)

That moment reframed so much for me. I understood what he meant. Young artists have a lot to teach us old heads. Even if you’re not the one making the music, I find that even just listening to music activates a creative part of my brain. All the new sounds and ideas can be inspiring. That same elation I felt when I was a kid, finding a new band? It turns out it can still happen.

The only thing stopping us from that feeling is ourselves. The joy of discovery never has to end.

Infinite Queue: One Person's Practice for Listening to New Music

When You Were Young: On Rewriting and Rewiring Nostalgia

1. Begin shaking fists here, 40+ year olds. -Gabbie