The Inner Monologue

Let’s be real: some songs have aged like milk left in the sun, and yet they still shamble onto playlists like Grandpa at a skate park—clueless, out of place, and kind of embarrassing.

Take Sugar’s “Hair”—a whole song about how dangerous it is to have long hair because people might, I don’t know, challenge you to a duel at the Renaissance Faire? Newsflash: nobody cares about your flow anymore, my dude. The only thing threatening about hair in 2024 is the state of my split ends.

Then there’s Hank Jr.’s “Dinosaur,” where downtown is apparently a war zone straight out of Escape from New York. Sorry, Hank, but Times Square is now a glorified Disney Store with more Elmos than criminals. The only thing getting mugged there is my patience when a guy in a Spider-Man suit charges $20 for a blurry photo.

These songs aren’t just relics—they’re time capsules of outdated fears, like a boomer’s Facebook meme about how “you can’t say anything anymore.” And sure, nostalgia is fun, but playing them without irony in 2024 is like still using a flip phone and acting shocked that no one’s impressed.

So here’s the deal: either we relegate these tracks to “historical curiosity” status (right next to “Why Can’t We Own the Canadians?” and other hits from the “Wait, People Actually Thought This?” era) or we update the lyrics. “Dinosaur (2024 Remix)”—now with lines about getting scammed by a Times Square ticket reseller!

Or, wild idea—maybe we just play better songs. The world’s moved on. Let’s not let the radio stay stuck in the past like it’s buffering on dial-up.