Say you’re a bit older - maybe you’re in your mid-40s now and distinctly remember how awesome it was to be a teenager at the mall in the ’80s. We didn’t know about the grander world around us: the rampant consumerism the cratering towns and dying American Dream as industry after industry left for cheaper pastures the plague of HIV and AIDS that President Reagan and his team didn’t take seriously the drastically diminishing power of labor in the face of the Gordon Gekkos of the world the threat of nuclear war with the USSR diminished representation in government and media for women and people of color, etc., etc.
There were the crushes who crushed on others, thereby crushing you. We’d be at “war” with other “tribes” in the neighborhood, sometimes resulting in bruises and more.
My friends and I would all go off exploring the neighborhood without supervision for hours at a time. I wasn’t a teen in the ’80s, but I did live through them and did find myself with friends and family at the mall oh-so-often in the ’80s and early ’90s. Song titles like “Youth,” “Kids,” “Explorers,” “Saturday Mornings,” and “Arcade Dreams,” all evoke fond memories. You can’t go back to the mall, because it’s probably torn down. Even the fondest, happiest memories are tinged with the sometimes crushing realization that you can never go back. Like the phrase, this record recognizes that nostalgia is bathed in wistfulness - even sadness. This is a nostalgic record, to be sure, but let’s not forget The Midnight’s mantra: “mono no aware,” a Japanese phrase that refers to sad beauty of seeing time pass you by. The Midnight would never patronize you with such a simple sentiment. The Midnight’s new album, Kids, is a fascinating and well-executed work of art, drenched in colorful synths, upbeat rhythms, and evocative lyrics seemingly about a simpler time when the malls were vibrant with kids hanging out and playing video games and getting crushes and engaging in all sorts of lovely tomfoolery.īut don’t be fooled by that first blush assessment, though.