The Torch Still Burns: How CommonX Is Keeping MTV’s Spirit Alive
When MTV started fading from the airwaves, a generation felt like part of its soul was slipping away. But the truth is — the movement isn’t dead. CommonX is carrying the torch, keeping alive the spirit of connection, creativity, and rebellion that MTV once gave us. From iconic artists to new voices, we’re still tuning into the same frequency — the one that plays from the heart of Generation X.
A glowing retro CRT television flickers in a dark room with the CommonX logo and skull emblem on-screen, symbolizing the passing of the MTV torch to a new generation of creators.
🎸 The Torch Still Burns: How CommonX Is Keeping MTV’s Spirit Alive
MTV didn’t just play music.
It played moments — the kind you felt in your bones long before you could name them.
When the headlines hit that MTV was winding down some of its music channels, the internet reacted like it just heard the last guitar feedback fade out. Nostalgia, disbelief, heartbreak — but also something else: a sense that a torch needed carrying. And that’s where we come in. MTV may be changing, but the movement it sparked — that fusion of rebellion, rhythm, and raw emotion — never died. It just evolved. CommonX isn’t replacing MTV. We’re preserving what it stood for and reigniting it for the world we live in now.
🎧 The Signal Never Died
The ‘80s and ‘90s MTV generation was raised on a steady diet of noise, neon, and truth. From “Headbangers Ball” to “120 Minutes,” MTV taught us that music wasn’t just background — it was identity. Now, as traditional TV fades and algorithms decide what you see, CommonX is the counterpunch — a reminder that authentic culture still lives off the grid. From Rudy Sarzo and Ivan Doroschuk to Sid Griffin and Chris Ballew, we’ve sat down with the voices that shaped a generation. The names may have changed, but the spirit — that fearless curiosity to ask, challenge, and create — is still the same. MTV gave us the soundtrack. CommonX is picking up the mic.
🔥 Keeping the Flame Alive
MTV once gave a generation permission to be loud, weird, and unapologetically real. Somewhere along the way, it turned into reruns and reality shows. But here’s the truth — the artists, the dreamers, and the rebels it inspired didn’t disappear. They just went independent. That’s why CommonX exists — to keep the flame burning. To tell the stories behind the music, the meaning behind the madness, and the movement behind the noise. Whether it’s through The X-Files blog, the CommonX Podcast, or Curb Fail Productions, we’re building the next chapter of a legacy that started in front of that flickering TV screen.
⚡ A New Era for Gen-X
We don’t see MTV’s decline as an ending — it’s an invitation. A challenge to the next wave of creators to stop waiting for permission and start broadcasting their own signal. Because the truth is, the world still needs the energy MTV gave us — the guts to challenge, the hunger to create, and the soundtrack that told us who we were. And that’s exactly what CommonX is doing: not replacing the past, but remixing it into the future. ⚡ A New Home for Generation X We’re not competing with MTV — we’re continuing it. Because the truth is, the world still needs what MTV gave us: culture with a conscience, rebellion with rhythm, stories that matter. And now, it’s our turn to amplify it in a new way — one podcast, one article, one story at a time.
This isn’t the end of an era. It’s the next track in the playlist.
💫 CommonX aims to keep MTV Alive
The music didn’t stop — it just found a new station. Welcome to CommonX, where the spirit of MTV still spins.
Written by Ian Primmer — CommonX Podcast
The Lords of Dogtown: When Rebellion Learned to Ride
Before rebellion became a hashtag, it lived in the sun-cracked streets of Venice Beach. The Z-Boys didn’t just invent modern skateboarding — they invented an attitude. Lords of Dogtown wasn’t about fame or money; it was about freedom, creativity, and carving your own line through life. From busted boards to backyard pools, these kids turned drought into art and chaos into culture — proving that real rebellion doesn’t destroy, it creates.
How a handful of kids from Venice Beach turned drought, grit, and boredom into a cultural revolution.
Before social media turned every subculture into a hashtag, rebellion lived in the cracks of America’s forgotten streets. In the mid-’70s, Venice Beach, California — a sun-baked, half-abandoned neighborhood locals called Dogtown — was one of those cracks. It was raw, dirty, and absolutely alive.
Out of that concrete chaos came the Z-Boys — a crew of scrappy teenagers with homemade boards, saltwater in their hair, and an attitude that would change everything. They didn’t have sponsors or followers. What they had was hunger — to move faster, fly higher, and tell the establishment to shove it.
When the California drought hit and drained suburban swimming pools, the Z-Boys saw opportunity where everyone else saw emptiness. They dropped into those empty pools and re-invented skateboarding — carving vertical walls like surfers on asphalt waves. They weren’t just skating; they were creating a new language.
From Survival to Style
The beauty of Dogtown wasn’t perfection — it was improvisation. Most of these kids came from broken homes or no homes at all. Skateboarding wasn’t a sport — it was survival, expression, and defiance rolled into one. Guys like Tony Alva, Jay Adams, and Stacy Peralta didn’t wear corporate logos; they wore scraped knees and chipped boards like badges of honor.
They didn’t wait for permission or funding — they built ramps out of trash wood and used the city as their playground. That’s the essence of Gen-X before we even had a name for it — take what’s broken, what’s left behind, and make it yours. No filters. No algorithms. Just gravity and guts.
The Surf That Never Died
For most of the Z-Boys, skating was an extension of surfing — and surfing was an extension of rebellion. They took the flowing rhythm of the ocean and translated it to the streets. Every pool carve was a protest against conformity, every grind a middle finger to the mainstream.
The 2005 film Lords of Dogtown didn’t just tell that story — it bottled that lightning. It showed how creativity can explode from the most unlikely places, and how freedom often starts where the rules end. The soundtrack — with tracks from Hendrix, T-Rex, and Social Distortion — was more than background noise. It was a love letter to a generation that refused to be boxed in.
The Blueprint for Rebellion
Look around today, and you can still see Dogtown’s fingerprints everywhere. The DIY culture that birthed punk rock, garage bands, zines, streetwear, and even YouTube creators — all trace back to the same philosophy:
Make something from nothing. Dogtown wasn’t about profit; it was about purpose. They didn’t chase clout — they chased connection. And maybe that’s why it resonates so deeply with us at CommonX. Because in a world obsessed with metrics, we’re chasing the same thing they were — truth, grit, and the freedom to build something real.
Legacy in Motion
What those kids started on cracked concrete has rolled through every creative space since. From Tony Hawk’s 900 to the explosion of street culture, Dogtown proved that authenticity beats polish, and courage beats comfort. The Z-Boys didn’t just carve lines in pools; they carved a roadmap for creators, rebels, and dreamers who refuse to be told “stay in your lane.”
And that’s the CommonX way too — we’re just doing it with microphones instead of skate decks. So here’s to the Lords of Dogtown, the barefoot prophets who showed us that rebellion isn’t about destruction — it’s about creation. They didn’t follow trends.
They were the trend.
by Ian Primmer, Co-host -CommonX