You had it. You knew them before they got big. You saw them live, before they got soft. You were scene. You had a song for every occasion. You kept up. You would never be that person who only listened to music that was 20 years old. You missed a show. You missed every show. You got a cat. You had a kid. You traded newness for nostalgia. You accepted it. You turned up the car stereo, alone, remembering.