At roughly the same time, the glimmer of upbeat hope in the form of the relatively brief dance-punk movement glistening around NYC’s DFA records separated back into its respective components of sophisticated dance and staunchly unsophisticated punk. The children of yuppies stood around in dive bars moaning about the prevalence of yuppies. Sleeve tatts and vegan diets ceased to carry any meaningful anti-establishment sentiment. Cheap beer became a joke, craft beer the norm.
At the turn of the 2010s, the leftover strands of the swaggering American youth and its posturing angry punks got yanked against their wishes into the twenty-first century.
