I’m 42 years old. This means, and I think I’ve mentioned this before, that about half my life was pre-internet and half so far has been post-internet. I’ve noticed that sometimes pre-internet me and post-internet me have entirely different ways of looking at things.

For example, when someone starts saying “goth is all about the music, you can’t have goth without the music,” I have two completely different reactions.

Pre-internet me wonders how it’s even possible to separate alternative music and fashion. Back then if you wanted to see goth fashion you had to watch music videos or buy music magazines or find an actual goth (who got their style from music videos or music magazines). In the 90s you could maybe find the fashion through comics like The Sandman or movies like The Crow, and for a while you could just buy goth clothing at Hot Topic, but you’d still be surrounded by people who got their style from The Cure and Siouxsie Sioux and Trent Reznor, and those people would make you listen to the music that inspired them. The music basically came with the goth package and if you hated it you probably wouldn’t stay in the culture just for the clothes.

Post-internet me sees things differently. Post-internet me knows about Instagram and Tumblr and YouTube, where you can see hundreds of goth outfits and makeup tutorials without even one person making you listen to “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.” The internet makes it easy to find dozens of black-clad friends to share fashion and makeup tips with, and the more visual platforms make finding fashion buddies much easier than finding musical soulmates. Post-internet me sees how for these fashion-focused people, looking up a bunch of old bands can seem like unnecessary busywork made up by “elitist eldergoths” who don’t appreciate the hard work they already put into their ubergoth hair and makeup. If I spent that much time and money on a perfect Instagoth look, I might consider myself #goth too.

Post-internet me also sees how many younger goths listen to mostly industrial and electronic stuff which only sort of overlaps with the stuff pre-internet me listened to, and finds it easier to connect with new goths based on fashion or TV shows than music anyway. Post-internet me still believes in the music, but has some sympathy for fashion goths.

Pre-internet me resents the fact that social media makes even music-focused goths more worried about our appearance, and is annoyed that everyone has to fit a hashtag now.  (Am I a #lazygoth or a #oldgoth?) Pre-internet me is shocked at hauls and unboxing videos and thinks obsessing over Killstar or Demonia is just as shallow as obsessing over Chanel or Versace. Choosing logos over quality and creativity is sad and consumerist no matter who’s doing it. Pre-internet me worries that goth is bigger and more popular than ever, but it’s not really alternative anymore.

Post-internet me loves loves loves the internet and will never give it up. Post-internet me hopes to become a cyborg someday, with Google hooked straight into my brain. Post-internet me thinks there’s still plenty of goth music out there along with the fashion, including huge European festivals I can’t afford to go to. Post-internet me appreciates bloggers and YouTubers who talk about music and loves how easy it is to find goth music now, both new and old.

Post-internet me also sees no way to stop the “goth is fashion” crew from sharing our label. Music goths can bitch all we want, but we can’t really kick fashion goths off the internet, and we’ll only ever convince a small portion to try the music. Post-internet me is not sure whether to even be upset over this, because it’s still easier to find people and things I like now than before I had the internet.

Neither me talks about music much on this blog, and both versions of me feel a bit weird about that. But talking about that means a trip down memory lane, so follow me back to the 1980s, if you will . . .

I grew up in the cassette tape era. My kids know cassettes as “that thing Star-Lord had in Guardians of the Galaxy.” My walkman was nicer (literally the nicest thing I owned in high school) and I usually wore earbuds but yeah, I’m exactly like Star-Lord.

I can just imagine his walkman eating his cassette–him carefully pulling out that magnetic ribbon, trying to detangle and smooth it out without stretching it too much, winding it slowly back onto the spools, and praying to every god he could name that his walkman wouldn’t break it for good the next time he tried to play it. Cassettes were a pain in the ass, babybats! But unlike records, you could take them everywhere, and I did exactly that.

Even when CDs started taking over I’d often buy cassette tapes instead. Discmans (discmen?) were skippy as hell when they first came out and CDs were really expensive (anyone remember the big price fixing scandal from back then?), so cassettes were a great option for a poor college student who walked everywhere.

Back then I was so into music. I was never that into musicians–I didn’t read celebrity interviews much or buy posters of my favorite bands. I just obsessively listened to the music, especially the lyrics. I used to know so many song lyrics. I still do, actually. I’d read album reviews in music magazines, spend hours in music stores, listen to my favorite songs over and over again, and then talk about them with my friends. (Which is why I know so much about fixing cassette tapes.)

Music was my biggest interest from my early teens up until sometime in my thirties, when my priorities started to shift. Instead of being my main interest, music moved into the background of my life. Yes, just when all the music ever became available for free I began to lose interest. Maybe it all got too easy–maybe I needed the thrill of the hunt. Maybe I just got old. Maybe it’s a lot of things.

I’ll listen to music while I cook dinner or crochet or exercise, but I rarely sit down and just savor an album anymore, and I barely notice new releases. I don’t usually make friends over music anymore, either. All my best friends are intellectually starved moms like me, so we talk about our kids and philosophy and paganism and the economy.

Some of this is the kids. Kids take a lot of time and money and energy, and that has to come from somewhere. It’s no coincidence most of the famously gothy goths have no children. But it’s not just having kids; some of it is finally having money and brain space for other interests. I never had money or space to decorate when I was younger, and I was too busy with school to bury myself in true crime or gothic novels as much as I wanted to. I didn’t even have money for fancy wool yarn to knit scarves with until a few years ago. It does make sense that I listen to old favorites while I focus on some of my other interests.

This is why I don’t write about music much. It seems boring to say “I listened to Dead Can Dance yet again” or “I finally listened to that new album everyone recommended six months ago.” Sometimes I worry that this means I’ve gotten old or lost my edge, but mostly I feel peaceful about it. I still think music is the true undead heart of goth, it’s still my foundation, but I’m not a great source for music news. I’m more the one who reads gothic novels so you don’t have to, and that’s fine with me.

Still, I wonder if I should mention what I’m listening to anyway, even if it’s just the same old thing I’ve listened to for years. Pre-internet me thinks it goes without saying–if I’m reading Frankenstein in my purple and black living room wearing a coffin necklace, of course I listen to goth music. Post-internet me thinks I should say it because a lot of young people don’t know these things go together.

Right now both versions of me are strongly considering adding a “what I’m listening to” to my posts even if it’s not new and exciting. Pre-internet me wants to share the soundtrack to my life like I did in the old days, and post-internet me wants it to be more clear that goth isn’t just an Instagram photo.

This week my soundtrack was a lot of Kammarheit and a little Depeche Mode and Godless Procession. Also, I had that exact Sony Walkman in black and it was the best machine I ever had. If it hadn’t broken in the late ’90s it would be worth lots of money now, apparently.