I’ll never forget the first time I heard Foo Fighters on my favourite ‘classic rock’ radio station. It was the song Learn To Fly, and as the opening notes came through my distorted car speakers I glanced at the radio dial in shock and thought: “Classic rock? Foo Fighters?” Sandwiched between Foghat and the Doobie Brothers, I thought this must be some wicked prank by a rogue disc jockey on his last day of work, doing his best to exact revenge upon his unsuspecting, abusive superior. “Obviously a one off,” I thought.
Nevertheless, it got me thinking. What exactly is ‘classic rock’? Is it a genre defined by a specific time, or style? Is it a measure of tone, or aesthetic? It’s difficult to interpret, but the term definitely carries with it a puzzling set of implications. I have my own list of ‘classic’ bands, some that you could even argue are not ‘rock’, though in time I wouldn’t be surprised if popular perception mutated, eventually placing them in this category based on the simple notion that there were indeed electric guitars and drums utilised within the music, no matter what length the pants.