The hip, young, well-put-together yet dishevelled TV show host introduced us to the viewing audience with the requisite amount of GenX lacklustre. She then turned to us and said ”So, you have a new album out. What’s that all about?”
In Canada, a TV channel called MuchMusic cruelly launched on August 31, 1984—just six days before school started up again for the year. They could have launched it in May or June, so we could have watched it all summer long, but no. Instead, they waited until my friends and I were about to start Grade 7 and get locked inside a not-unlike-jail classroom for the next 8 months.
The issue/excitement, depending on how you looked at it, was that MuchMusic was an entire channel focused on music programming, including blocks of music videos and original series focusing on Canadian musicians (if this sounds like an overly-polite yet passive-aggressive rip-off of MTV, you wouldn’t be wrong). Sadly, for me, the cable company charged extra to add that channel to our TV service (plus another called SuperChannel that played old movies on repeat), so my family did not get either of them. We had all the channels that showed the hockey games and despite my whining and begging, that was all we needed and all we received.
But some of my friends’ families sprung for MuchMusic, and we would watch, after school, especially in the cold and dark winter months, hoping to see some of our favourites like Helix, Van Halen, David Bowie, and Weird Al Yankovic. Sometimes we would watch with our fingers poised over the “rec” button on the VCR in hopes of capturing our favourite video on videotape so we could study it, over and over again.
In case you don’t know, A VCR, short for Video Cassette Recorder, is a machine that both records and plays movies or TV shows that you have “taped” on big plastic videocassettes. It's like a special box that lets you re-watch your favourite movies, TV programs and music videos whenever you want, just by putting a cassette tape inside and pressing the play button. It's kind of like a DVD player or streaming device except that the tapes broke regularly, the quality was terrible, and the sound and visuals got worse each time you played it.
Years later, when I was no longer in grade school but was still “taping” things on video cassettes, I found myself on the other side of the screen. My childhood fascination with MuchMusic had come full circle as I toured across the country with my band and I made the leap from viewer to viewed.
Each time we toured to Toronto, we would stop in at MuchMusic headquarters to sing a song, promote our shows, and sometimes get interviewed by the disenchanted young folks who worked there, who were referred to as VJs (video jockeys).
At a particularly pivotal time in our musical career, we were lucky enough to get to promote a new album - and the performance that would launch that album - in an interview that would be played several times over the span of 24 hours. It was a big deal and we were very excited. Could this be our big break? (It wasn’t)
The MuchMusic producers only wanted to have two of the six band members on the interview so we decided it would be me and the most lead singer we had (four of us took turns on lead vocals but the tallest of us also played electric guitar which made him the defacto lead singer). This is when the big question was dropped on us.
“So you have a new album coming out. What’s that all about?”
We both stared at the plaid-clad and pierced but still wholesome interviewer, waiting for more… but after what felt like an extra month of high school, we both stammered into action, blurting out the first things we could think of to say in a flurry of panicked hype.
The rest of the interview is a blur in my memory, having begun with such a huge surge of adrenaline. My soul had left my body and my mouth had progressed all on its own. After it was over, my friends and bandmates assured me that we had done a good job. They assured me that our panic was not noticeable and that Lead Singer had provided solid information and I had provided the requisite comic relief.
Our show the next night was sold out, and we had a blast - mission accomplished. The room was filled with friends, family, other musicians of varying levels of fame, and sweaty dancing strangers. But that question has stuck with me much longer than the memory of the triumphant CD release party/performance did.
What’s that all about?
It applies to pretty much anything, anyone, or anywhere. It's both a superficially benign and a meaningfully deep question.
Although I would have preferred that the VJ had asked us a more helpfully leading question such as “Where are you throwing your release party?” or “Where did you record the album?” she did give me the gift of the ultimate question: What’s that all about?
Years later, over a shared piece of chocolate cake at an outdoor music festival in the snowy mountains of BC, I reminded the VJ of that interview and how it had begun. She shook her head, laughed a little and apologized profusely for leaving us hanging but explained how tricky it was to be “90s cool” while also providing any type of hype or information. And I get it. The early-mid 90s cool factor was tough to navigate, as summed up beautifully in a throwaway exchange on the TV show The Simpsons:
Marge Simpson: This might upset them.
Bart Simpson: Nothing you say can upset us. We're the MTV generation.
Lisa Simpson: We feel neither highs nor lows.
Homer Simpson: Really? What's it like?
Lisa Simpson: Meh.
Despite her apologies, I assured her that all was well. The interview had done its job. The show had been a great success, the album hit indie gold in sales, and best of all, she had given me a way to assess every life situation from then on.
What’s that all about?
Here’s an example of what I mean: My partner and I were walking down the street a few days ago, discussing life - as you do. She said something about how she “cares more about being right than being liked.” I took offence to the idea that she didn’t care what other people believed when she knew she was right. I launched into a hurtful diatribe about how she browbeats me into submission if I disagreed with the smallest thing that she believed to be true (and will immediately turn to Google to prove me wrong). I truly went from zero to vengeful outrage. I knew that I reacted poorly. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the magic question popped into my head - what’s that all about?
From that one question, I was able to see how I had hurt my partner’s feelings, and how badly I had handled the conversation. I was able to dissect my reaction and explain why that had triggered me so strongly. Most importantly, it gave me the ability to apologize in a meaningful way and move on with our day - perhaps with a greater understanding of each other’s feelings and a deepened relationship.
Another example:
I was watching a hockey game and a frankly patronizing commercial for a crappy nationwide coffee chain came on the TV. With heartwarming music playing in the background, it showed children of all ages, ethnicities, and socioeconomic ranges putting on their Little League gear and hitting the ice to play together. I almost immediately started to get tears in my eyes. And I only got more teary as the music swelled and the kids came together as one. What’s that all about?
Sure, the kids were cute, and I remember being their age and being so excited when I was included in the fun. But more importantly, as I asked myself “what’s that all about?” I also remembered how it felt to be excluded from fun due to my homemade clothes, clumsy growth spurts, glasses and allergies. My heart broke at the possibility that some kid somewhere was not being allowed to play shinny with the other kids.
I knew I had fallen into the marketing team’s trap; the coffee chain had clearly hired them to pull on my heartstrings. But by delving deeper into my tears, although I hadn’t become a devotee of their coffee, I had perhaps become a more compassionate person. One that will encourage inclusion of all types and will use my privilege of being a white, cis, middle-aged male to stand up to anyone who denies it.
A final example:
Decades ago, I was doing some yard work for my mother. When I finished, in my mind, she had nothing but criticism for my efforts - saying that nothing was done to her standard.
At the time, I wasn’t an adult yet, but I was also too old to endure this type of ridicule but I kept my mouth shut. After she went back inside the house, I threw the broom with all my might across the yard in frustration. As soon as it landed in the raspberry patch, I was filled with shame and regret for allowing myself to get so worked up that I reacted in such an embarrassing way. I immediately walked across the yard, picked up the broom, put it back where it belonged and tried to hide my unseemly outburst.
Reflecting on this incident later, I realized it was an opportunity to ask myself, "What’s that all about?" Sure, no one likes to have their hard work disparaged, but this reaction showed me that there was some deeper emotion at play. Perhaps a real fear of letting someone down? A need to always be the best at everything I do? A desire to be beyond judgment or reproach? Am I a people-pleaser? Indeed, what it was all about was worth investigation—and I could benefit from diving deeper.
And so I remain steadfast in my belief: “What’s that all about?” is a question that elicits curiosity without judgment. It invites personal introspection and allows an individual to dig deeper into their behaviour, environment, or learned beliefs. It’s a modern addition to the questions that Socrates asked his students and followers.
What do you mean by that?
How do you know?
Can you give me an example?
What are the consequences of that?
What is the counterargument?
What’s that all about?
Now, you may be thinking, why is introspection so crucial, Brock? Well, imagine trying to assemble a fancy new smart home entertainment system without looking at the instruction manual. Frustrating chaos, right? Well, introspection is like writing the instruction manual for your life - for your future. It's how you figure out both what makes you tick and what makes you ticked.
You can also think of it as your very own therapy session, minus the awkward silence, stifled tears, and health insurance co-pay. It's your chance to have a deep-down, heart-to-heart with yourself.
And let's not forget the comedic goldmine introspection can offer. Ever caught yourself replaying that cringeworthy moment from three years ago when you accidentally called your coworker "honey"? Or when you sent that inappropriate and confusing text message to the wrong person? Or maybe you lashed out at a child when they asked you “Why?” one too many times. Introspection lets you relive those glorious moments, all while gaining a deeper understanding of yourself in the process.
Remember that time you tripped over nothing in the middle of a crowded room and pretended it was intentional? Introspection (or “What’s that all about?”) lets you delve into the absurdity of such moments and explore why you felt the need to save face.
Have you ever found yourself cringing at an old social media post or status update? “What’s that all about?” allows you to examine why you posted it in the first place, what it reveals about your past mindset, and how you have evolved.
Did you ever spontaneously laugh at an inappropriate moment, like during a serious meeting or solemn occasion? “What’s that all about?” allows you to dissect the underlying reasons for that questionable reaction and discern how it reflects your personality.
Have you ever misunderstood someone's joke and laughed along, only to realize later the true meaning behind it? “What’s that all about?” allows you to analyze both why you didn't catch on initially and also what laughing reveals about your sense of humour or your social awareness.
Have you ever found yourself getting unreasonably frustrated with a piece of technology, like a stubborn printer or malfunctioning smartphone? “What’s that all about?” lets you explore the deeper emotions behind the frustration and helps you identify the triggers behind your reactions to such situations.
So, I encourage you to be your own GenX Music TV Show Host and ask the ultimate question: “What’s that all about?” Embrace introspection as you would embrace your own sold-out performance in the big smoke known as Toronto.
When life throws you curveballs (or flying brooms), “What’s that all about?” is your trusty friend. It can help you cultivate deeper relationships, experience fewer tearful TV commercial-watching moments, and avoid non-violent lawn maintenance outbursts. Indeed, it can help you move through life with more grace and at least a modicum of dignity.