I hate those articles - this is a pet peeve of mine - like move

The musician Julien Baker, whose voice carries both honesty and fire, once declared: “I hate those articles—this is a pet peeve of mine—like move over X, here’s the new Y. And it’s just like, X didn’t become obsolete because there’s a person doing a similar thing. You also don’t have to be like the new old-thing, you’re just the current you-thing.” Though spoken against the trivial chatter of journalists, these words shine with wisdom as ancient as time itself. They reveal the eternal struggle between imitation and authenticity, between the pressure to fit molds and the calling to stand in one’s own truth.

When she speaks of “move over X, here’s the new Y,” she unmasks the folly of comparison. For the world delights in pitting one against another, as though greatness were a throne with only one seat. Yet Baker reminds us that the rising of one star does not eclipse another. The sun does not make the moon obsolete; the oak does not diminish the cedar; the song of one bird does not silence the forest. Each being has its own season, its own voice, its own light. To compare endlessly is to miss the richness of variety.

The heart of her wisdom lies in the phrase: “you don’t have to be like the new old-thing, you’re just the current you-thing.” This is the essence of authenticity. To live truly is not to mimic the greatness of another, but to embody fully the uniqueness of oneself. The ancients knew this truth well: Socrates declared that the unexamined life is not worth living, but just as dangerous is the imitated life, lived in the shadow of another’s name. Each soul is given a path, and to abandon it for imitation is to betray the very gift of existence.

History offers us a lesson in the tale of Vincent van Gogh. In his lifetime, he was compared unfavorably to other painters, dismissed as lesser, unworthy. Yet his genius was not in being a “new” version of someone else—it was in being fully himself, in colors and visions that no one else dared to paint. Today, his work stands immortal, not as the shadow of an old master, but as the blazing light of a man who was unapologetically his own. His life proves Baker’s teaching: greatness is not found in replacing others, but in becoming wholly oneself.

The origin of such comparisons lies in fear and limitation. Society fears multiplicity, preferring to crown only one hero, one poet, one musician, one thinker at a time. But truth is abundant, not scarce. Wisdom does not die because a new sage speaks; music does not end because a new voice rises. To believe otherwise is to live in a world of scarcity, when in reality, creation is infinite. Baker’s irritation, her “pet peeve,” is a protest against this false scarcity, a call to remember that there is room enough for all to shine.

The lesson is this: do not measure yourself against the shadow of others, nor allow others to name you by comparison. You are not the new echo of an old song—you are the living voice of your own melody. Others may have walked before, but your step is your own, and the earth has never heard it until now. To future generations, this truth must be passed on: greatness is not repetition, but authenticity. The oak tree does not ask to be the new pine; it simply grows, tall and unashamed, into itself.

Practical actions flow naturally. Resist the temptation to compare yourself endlessly to others—whether in work, art, or daily life. When praised, accept it not as a measure against another but as a recognition of your own unique light. When criticized for not fitting a mold, remember that molds are made for statues, not for living souls. Celebrate the greatness of others, but never at the expense of your own. In every choice, strive to be the “current you-thing,” alive, present, unrepeatable.

Thus, Julien Baker’s words, though spoken in frustration, become a teaching for the ages: Comparison is a thief of joy; authenticity is the crown of the soul. Let this wisdom endure—that no voice need replace another, and no life need be lived in imitation. For the world is vast, and in its vastness, there is room for every star to shine.