But let me tell you something—aside from my hair, clothes, and mindset, I live on the cutting edge of pop culture.

So when the former editor of Plethora of Pop—Buddy Gott—asked for submissions to his new publication, I viewed it as an opportunity to let my true colors shine.

The publication is called PubBeat, and the challenge was simple: Pick a year that contained a lot of music you love and then write a piece in which you share multiple songs from that year.

Yes, 1971 did give us “Stairway to Heaven” and “What’s Going On.” The year did also capture the sounds of the decade of my birth. But who do you think I am—some sort of Rust Belt nostalgia guy?

Then there’s 1991, which gave us “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and “Losing My Religion.” But the years of teenage angst are long gone. Do I look like the type of dude who would give up his day job to blog or something?

No, the only year that fits, the one that captures the new joyful me, is 2014.

By that year, I was fully entrenched in the culture of suburbia, talking playsets, weed killers, and grill covers. I was…

“Happy” by Pharrell Williams”

Granted, the decision to grow roots in Upstate New York had raised a few eyebrows, particularly among the coastal elites I had left behind. But my wife and I knew that in stumbling upon Rochester, we had found a…

“Dark Horse” by Katy Perry featuring Juicy J

Life was a little slower and a little simpler. It seemed like we were surrounded by people who had collectively decided no more counting dollars, we’ll be…

“Counting Stars” by OneRepublic

Of course, the fact that the only thing outsiders knew about Rochester was lake-effect snow did get irritating at times. Eventually, however, I learned to…

“Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift

Because deep down, I had an inkling the snide comments were coming from the…

“Jealous” by Nick Jonas

And that’s why 2014 is my favorite year in music.

The post My Favorite Year in Music appeared first on ComposeMD.

But were you actually listening?

Once more, I’ll remind you of a few facts.

Western New York is separated from Canada—Ontario to be exact—by a measly river.

Sure, the Niagara River does have some impressive waterfalls, but at some points along its 36-mile course, it looks like a mere stream.

And when it comes to stanching the flow of people, ideas, and…love, that little stream doesn’t stand a chance.

Again, you’ve heard this in the past, but I do enjoy repeating myself.

Buffalo and Toronto share a public media network—Buffalo Toronto Public Media—that serves both Southern Ontario and Western New York.

Western New Yorkers are far more likely to get their morning cup of joe from Tim Hortons than from Dunkin’.

Labatt Blue, the most Canadian of beers, is brewed in part at the Genesee Brewery—in Rochester, New York.

Similarly, The Tragically Hip, the most Canadian of bands, has a popular tribute band—in Buffalo.

The Triple-A affiliate of the Toronto Blue Jays plays in Buffalo. During COVID, the actual Toronto Blue Jays played in Buffalo.

Approximately 21 percent of Canada’s population lies within the 75-mile radius considered by the NFL to be the Buffalo Bills’ home market, explaining this map.

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But as this article so eloquently points out, all of the above is thin culture.

How about thick culture?

What is life truly like on the international border?

I asked if you were listening for a reason—because that’s where the answer lies.

The Buffalo Sabres of the NHL play both the Canadian and American national anthems before every game, even if that game is between two American teams.

On April 28, 2026, before a playoff matchup with the Boston Bruins, the microphone malfunctioned during the Canadian national anthem.

And here’s what 19,070 (mostly) Americans had to say about the situation.

Because that’s how we roll on an international border.

The post That’s How We Roll on an International Border! appeared first on ComposeMD.

Sadly, the words of the artists, like the subjects of which they sing, are often ignored—by non-Rust Belt bloggers, that is.

In other words, it’s time for another ranking, as determined by a committee of one wearing a sweatshirt in possible need of a cleanse.

Here are the 10 best Rust Belt songs of all time.

“North Country Blues” by Bob Dylan (1964)

Dylan, it could be said, hailed from the Rust Belt Extended. The Duluth, Minnesota, native knew all about the local iron ore that fed the steel mills on the lower Great Lakes—he also knew the good times weren’t meant to last forever.

Come gather ’round friends and I’ll tell you a tale

Of when the red iron ore pits ran plenty

But the cardboard filled windows and old men on the benches

Tell you now that the whole town is empty

“What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye (1971)

Along with other hot-button issues of the time, Motown’s Gaye was lamenting the concentrated poverty in black neighborhoods, an issue that plagues the Rust Belt to this day.

Don’t punish me with brutality

Come on talk to me

So you can see

What’s going on

“Working Man” by Rush (1974)

Yes, Rush hailed from the Canadian side of the Great Lakes, but when you’re anywhere near Hamilton (Ontario), that’s Rust Belt as hell. In fact, it was only after a disc jockey in Cleveland—Donna Halper—played this song on air that Rush landed a record deal, explaining the band’s dedication of its first two albums to her.

They call me the workin’ man

I guess that’s what I am

“My City Was Gone” by The Pretenders (1982)

Akron’s Chrissie Hynde went off to England to front the Pretenders. On a visit home, she discovered a reality she captured here—you might recognize the introductory bass line from The Rush Limbaugh Show.

I went back to Ohio

But my city was gone

There was no train station

There was no downtown

“Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp (1983)

Mellencamp, an Indiana man, sang about what he saw. And when he asked Ain’t that America? it wasn’t the fancy high-rises he was looking at.

And there’s winners and there’s losers

But they ain’t no big deal

‘Cause the simple man, baby, pays for the thrills, the bills

The pills that kill

“Born in the U.S.A.” by Bruce Springsteen (1984)

Don’t tell anyone from New Jersey, but The Boss knew the Rust Belt. Springsteen’s shout out to the US, like Mellencamp’s jam, wasn’t necessarily about the glamorous part.

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary

Out by the gas fires of the refinery

I’m ten years burnin’ down the road

Nowhere to run, ain’t got nowhere to go

“Like a Rock” by Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band (1986)

Seger, born in Detroit, might have been singing about the fleeting nature of youth, but when a track becomes the anthem for Chevy trucks, it’s making the list of Rust Belt songs.

High above it all

I still believed in my dreams

—

Like a rock

“If I Had” by Eminem (1999)

The Detroit of the late 90s might not have been the most uplifting place, and Eminem—never one to mince words—let us know about it.

Life is like a big obstacle in front of your optical

To slow you down

And every time you think you’ve gotten past it

It’s gonna come back around to tackle you to the damn ground

“Hotel Yorba” by The White Stripes (2001)

Yet another Detroit guy, Jack White, sang about Hotel Yorba, a decidedly low-end rooming house later shut down by the city.

Well, it’s one, two, three, four

Take the elevator at the Hotel Yorba

I’ll be glad to see you later

All they got inside is vacancy

“Coal” by Tyler Childers (2011)

And finally, there’s Childers, whose home in Eastern Kentucky—aka coal country—qualifies as the other end of Rust Belt Extended. As this haunting tune points out, there was little glory in powering the nation.

Now let me tell you something about the gospel

And make sure that you mark it down

When God spoke out Let there be light

He put the first of us in the ground

Title image courtesy Tama66 (Pixabay)

The post The 10 Best Rust Belt Songs of All Time appeared first on ComposeMD.

The mere occurrence of this question within my cerebral wiring quite obviously suggests pathology.

Or does it?

Does Western New York, aka the Eastern Rust Belt, have some sort of connection to the Caribbean island that gave us the most streamed artist on the planet?

Um…yeah.

Let’s rewind the clock to 1901, when nearby Buffalo was hosting the Pan-American Exposition.

There, tragically, William McKinley would become the third American president to be assassinated. This was the same man, of course, who in 1898 oversaw the American victory over Spain in the Spanish-American War. As a result, the US got some new territory.

Puerto Rico, anybody?

Over the ensuing decades, Puerto Ricans would populate cities on the American mainland.

They preferred some spots over others, clearly choosing wisely.

As per the 2020 Census, among American cities with over 200,000 residents, a certain city on Lake Ontario has the highest percentage of Puerto Ricans relative to the total population (15.3%).

Yeah, it’s Rochester. (Number five on that list, at 10%, is Buffalo.)

What does this mean?

If you want to be able to choose among a long list of Puerto Rican restaurants, come to the Flower City. Seriously.

In the summer, check out the Rochester Puerto Rican Festival, around since 1969.

If you’re in the mood for reggaetón on the beach, head to the aforementioned lake.

Should you overdo it and end up in the hospital, there’s a strong possibility your nurse will be Puerto Rican. Sometimes, they hand out souvenirs to their coworkers.

And if you want to listen to some Bad Bunny, make your way to the laser light show featuring his music at the planetarium. (I’m not making this up.)

Speaking of Bad Bunny, the dude has to be singing about Western New York. (I might be making this up.)

—

“Debí Tirar Más Fotos”

Debí tirar más fotos.

I should have taken more photos.

C’mon now—is this not a shout out to Kodak?

—

“Dakiti”

¿Y de nosotros quién va a hablar? Si no nos dejamos ver.

And who is going to talk about us? If we don’t let ourselves be seen.

Clearly, this advice is geared towards Rust Belt bloggers.

—

“Tití Me Preguntó”

Vo’a romperte el corazón. No te enamores de mí.

I’m going to break your heart. Don’t fall in love with me.

This is an obvious warning to Bills fans.

—

So the next time someone claims that we in the Rust Belt are still listening to John Mellencamp, go ahead and tell them that around these parts, it’s all about Latin Trap baby.

Entiendes?

The post What Do Rochester (NY) and Bad Bunny Have in Common? appeared first on ComposeMD.

Clearly, I was not the only one, as when I mentioned the same book several weeks later, the Ohioan receiving the information became misty-eyed as well.

Perhaps it’s the fallen majesty, how a Great Lakes freighter so iconic could simply disappear, swallowed on November 10, 1975, by the merciless Lake Superior.

Or perhaps it’s the irony that the ship, named after the president of Milwaukee’s Northwestern Mutual, could be met with the dreaded outcome that the company insured.

It’s undoubtedly the lives of the 29 men, the ones who brought iron ore from the shores of Lake Superior to the steel mills on the lower lakes. Together, along with the families they left behind, they helped build the American economy.

It’s also the haunting ballad that the shipwreck inspired—the 1976 classic “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” Written by the Canadian Gordon Lightfoot, himself an experienced Great Lakes sailor who would become close with surviving family members, the song shattered the idea of what it took to have a hit. Six minutes, twenty-eight two-line stanzas, no chorus, and no hook—raw emotion miraculously translated that formula into number two on the Billboard Hot 100.

And conceivably, it’s the occasional reminder, the type that might arise on a cold winter day courtesy a popular American porter. That tribute comes from Great Lakes Brewing Company, whose Edmund Fitzgerald Porter has accompanied many a conversation around these parts.

It’s all that.

But it’s more.

The reason for the dewy eyes, 50 years after the original heartbreak, can be found on the book jacket of Bacon’s account:

At the height of America’s postwar boom, no region was more vital to the nation’s economic strength than the Great Lakes. It was the beating heart of the global economy—possessing all the power and prestige that Silicon Valley enjoys today.

Bacon goes on to remind us that at the time of the tragedy, Toledo, home to about a quarter of the fallen crew, had a larger population than Portland (OR), Miami, Tampa, Charlotte, and Salt Lake City.

The Edmund Fitzgerald, in other words, has become a metaphor.

Just prior to the fateful moment, as he battled a historic storm and a list, Ernest McSorley, the seasoned captain of the Fitz, said, We are holding our own.

A half century later, we here in the Great Lakes region—including the champions among us—can’t help but look around and wonder, Are we really?

The post Why the Edmund Fitzgerald Still Makes Me Cry appeared first on ComposeMD.

And as a middle-aged Gen X guy whose formative years were guided by depressing music (grunge anyone?), I’ve put myself in charge.

Let me just summarize a few points in case you don’t read this blog regularly, which—as a pathological truth-teller—I can assure you is a massive number of people:

• The city of Buffalo has lost 52 percent of its population since the 1950 Census.
• Since the current Super Bowl format began in 1966, the Bills have won a grand total of zero of them.
• In the 1990s, the squad lost four Super Bowls in a row, including one on a missed last-second field goal.
• A few years later, the Bills lost a playoff game on a last-second kickoff return for a touchdown.
• The organization subsequently failed to make the playoffs for 17 years in a row, a streak that still stumps mathematicians for having defied all laws of probability.
• Since then, the team has made the playoffs in eight of nine seasons and seven in a row, forming a habit of finding creative and devastating ways to lose.

Given the last point, this playlist for Bills fans should come in handy next January as well.

“Numb” by Linkin Park

With repeated trauma, Chester Bennington knew that only one thing can happen.

And I know

I may end up failing too

But I know

You were just like me, with someone disappointed in you

I’ve become so numb…

“Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd

But as Pink Floyd showed, the numbness doesn’t have to be so angry—it can become comfortable.

I have become comfortably numb

I have become comfortably numb

“Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M.

Not everyone likes to sweep their emotions under the rug, preferring instead to get in touch with them. In this tune, Michael Stipe might have also been providing a reminder to hold on to the damn football.

And everybody hurts sometimes

So hold on, hold on…

“Down in a Hole” by Alice In Chains

No one, and I mean no one, could depress an entire generation quite like AIC.

Down in a hole, feelin’ so small

Down in a hole, losin’ my soul

I’d like to fly

But my wings have been so denied

“Something in the Way” by Nirvana

Kurt Cobain had a sixth sense that something was in the way, in this case that being the Bills themselves.

Something in the way, hmm-mmm

Something in the way, yeah, hmm-mmm…

“Black” by Pearl Jam

Eddie Vedder, whether he knew it or not, was singing on behalf of Bills fans to all those players on other teams who will win a Super Bowl.

I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, I know you’ll be a star

In somebody else’s sky, but why, why

Why can’t it be, oh, can’t it be mine?

“Outshined” by Soundgarden

And Chris Cornell was just singing about Bills fans.

Well I’m feeling that I’m sober

Even though I’m drinking

Well I can’t get any lower

Still I feel I’m sinking

“Linger” by The Cranberries

Dolores O’Riordan was well aware how the pain of a playoff loss can stick around for a while.

Was it just a game to you?

But I’m in so deep

You know I’m such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger?

“Vasoline” by Stone Temple Pilots

Was Scott Weiland somehow predicting that the same thing would happen every year?

Flies in the vasoline we are

Sometimes it blows my mind

Keep gettin’ stuck here all the time

“Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls

And finally, in a shout-out to their hometown team, Goo Goo Dolls seemed to begin their classic song with a lament about the evasive Super Bowl trophy and the early playoff exits.

And I’d give up forever to touch you

‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You’re the closest to Heaven that I’ll ever be

And I don’t wanna go home right now

The post A Playlist for Bills Fans appeared first on ComposeMD.

We get it.

You think you’re really important.

You have a lot of rich Indian people who sit around and talk about taxes.

You got food, airports, blah, blah, blah.

And you got all sorts of opportunity, otherwise known as high-paying but mind-numbing jobs that will probably be replaced by AI.

Deep down, you want to be New York City.

But you ain’t—so you talk about how you’re so much cleaner.

Yeah, no one cares.

But the worst part about you guys is how you don’t want to be associated with your Great Lakes brethren.

Toronto, you go out of your way to make sure you’re not mentioned in the same breath as Rochester and Buffalo on the American side.

And Chicago, how many times do we have to hear how much better you are than Cleveland, Detroit, and Milwaukee?

What you don’t know is that while you’re tooting your own horns about who knows what, we’re doing all the same crap.

Yes, Toronto, you gave us Rush, the guys who liked to show off but couldn’t write a melody to save their lives. And you tossed in Neil Young, the reason Auto-Tune was invented. Not to mention Drake—that dude just sucks.

Chicago, you have that super creative band called…Chicago. And you gifted us the depressive Billy Corgan and his Smashing Pumpkins—lighten up, bro. Oh, and don’t try to tell me that Fall Out Boy is good.

Meanwhile, the dumptowns in your own backyard that you try to ignore have been producing legitimate legends.

Rochester, NY

If Neil Young needs voice lessons, I’m sure Foreigner’s Lou Gramm—from Rochester—would be willing to help.

Buffalo, NY

As Buffalo’s Rick James showed, U Can’t Touch This song.

Erie, PA

Train’s Pat Monahan got his start in Erie (before moving far, far away).

Cleveland, OH

Tracy Chapman. Mic drop.

Toledo, OH

A dropout from the local university named Kid Cudi proved—with a little help from David Guetta—that Ohioans can party.

Detroit, MI

As Stevie Wonder and countless others have shown, Detroit will shame any of the garbage your cities put out.

Milwaukee, WI

Along with providing lessons in de facto segregation, Milwaukee fostered a band called Violent Femmes.

Duluth, MN

Bob Dylan. Enough said.

Where am I going with all this?

The binational Great Lakes megaregion is already the most populated megaregion in North America.

If you, Chicago and Toronto, stop thumbing your noses at us and actually embrace your surroundings, we can make it the most dynamic megaregion in the world.

With a little rebranding (and maybe a touch of capital), we can overtake the East Coast. And the West Coast won’t even stand a chance.

So cut the sh*t.

Are you on board?

The post Hey Chicago and Toronto: Cut the Sh*t appeared first on ComposeMD.

It’s been a year full of adventure, starting with exploring abandoned structures in our hometown of Rochester.

From there, our travels took us to Batavia (NY), site of one of the better Pizza Huts in the Rust Belt.

Finally, we were blessed to sample amazing gas station food, from Speedway to Sheetz to Buc-ee’s.

It’s also been a year of milestones.

The older child finally left the house, claiming he is ready to seize the world. From the outside looking in, evidence to support that claim is lacking. When the goal is the music industry and the transcript reads Bible Study, heads will be scratched.

As for the younger child, there have also been many accomplishments, mostly measured in Amazon packages. Between those and dance, she has proven herself quite capable of pushing back retirement dates. There was only one major argument this year, resolved by her recurrent TikTok scrolling.

Of course, no holiday card is complete without talking about the head(s) of household.

In my case, it’s been another year of wheel spinning and questionable decisions, peppered with flashes of irritability, all in the name of growth.*

And then there is the anchor. She continues to wake up every day and thank the Good Lord that Rochester’s healthcare system does not oppress and demoralize physicians.**

To 2026!

*Of my abdominal girth

**DM me for the truth

The post The Shrikhande Family Holiday Card appeared first on ComposeMD.

Don’t worry—I won’t bore you with too many details.

There’s the creative genius Lin-Manuel Miranda, born in New York City and educated at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut—the same as MGMT, by the way.

He’s the one who thought to tell the story of a forgotten Founding Father using a diverse cast and hip hop.

Then there’s the actual Founding Father, Alexander Hamilton, who was born on the Caribbean island of Nevis and somehow landed in the US, becoming George Washington’s treasury secretary among other things.

And then there are the political rivalries, including one with Aaron Burr, whose bullet took Hamilton’s life in a duel.

That’s just messed up.

Anyway, you know the deal.

The show started off-Broadway in 2015, quickly moving to Broadway when the rave reviews started coming in.

Per the norm, a Chicago production, a West End (London) production, and several others followed suit.

Somewhere in the mix came a run on Disney+ and a cameo in movie theaters.

And, of course, there were the touring productions, the type that give places like Rochester (NY) a little bit of culture.

That’s where I would have entered the picture.

But you didn’t think I was talking about that Hamilton, did you?

Let’s rewind the clock.

It was December 2019, and I was looking for the perfect spot for an exotic family getaway.

Having already explored the luxurious Buffalo, Cleveland, and Detroit, I knew I had to think outside the box.

Where could I find steel mills, empty storefronts, poverty, and drug addiction, all wrapped up into a simple two-hour drive?

A light-bulb moment (and four passports) later, I knew exactly where we were headed.

If you’re one of those Americans who romanticizes Canada, go to Hamilton.

Named for another Hamilton (George in this case), the city of 569,353 in southern Ontario let’s you know rather quickly that there ain’t much romantic about the place.

The first clue comes from the highway, where the skyline along Lake Ontario serves as a reminder that, yes, North America does still make steel.

In the city itself comes yet another reminder, the one about the Rust Belt knowing no borders.

This clip, courtesy RocaNews, will show you what I mean.

In my particular case, as that chilly December day confirmed my nagging suspicions, I felt a sense of despair.

What happened to my utopia?

Even on the right side of the Underground Railroad, how could cities still look like sh*t?

Were Canadians no better than—gasp—Americans?!

In my moment of darkness, I had no choice but to resort to the coping mechanism we Americans are taught right alongside the US Pledge of Allegiance.

I ate donuts.

(The original Tim Hortons, founded in 1964 in Hamilton) 

The post The Fateful Day I Finally Saw Hamilton appeared first on ComposeMD.