The Stroke — What It Takes to Build Something Real
In 1981, Billy Squier dropped The Stroke — a track so sharp and ironic that half the world missed the joke. On the surface, it sounded like a swaggering rock anthem. Underneath? It was a middle finger to the music industry’s obsession with fame, ego, and transactional love.
Fast-forward forty-plus years, and it’s still the same song — only the instruments changed. Likes, views, algorithms… that’s the new Stroke. Everybody’s working it, talking it, streaming it, chasing it. But few are still feeling it.
At CommonX, we’re trying to change that.
By Ian Primmer Co-host, CommonX
Intro: The Grind Behind the Glory
In 1981, Billy Squier dropped The Stroke — a track so sharp and ironic that half the world missed the joke. On the surface, it sounded like a swaggering rock anthem. Underneath? It was a middle finger to the music industry’s obsession with fame, ego, and transactional love.
Fast-forward forty-plus years, and it’s still the same song — only the instruments changed. Likes, views, algorithms… that’s the new Stroke. Everybody’s working it, talking it, streaming it, chasing it. But few are still feeling it.
At CommonX, we’re trying to change that.
The CommonX Connection
Building this thing — this crazy media dream — feels a lot like that lyric: “Put your right hand out, give a firm handshake.” Every collaboration, every guest, every article, every episode… it’s the grind. It’s the stroke.
We’ve been lucky enough to shake hands with legends: Richard Karn, Rudy Sarzo, Ivan Doroschuk, Sid Griffin, Dr. Gerald Horne — and every single one of them reminded us of the same truth: success only lasts if you mean it.
Billy Squier wasn’t mocking ambition. He was warning us: don’t let the performance replace the purpose.
Hustle, Humility, and the New Stroke
“Making it” in 2025 isn’t fame — it’s consistency. It’s the grind, the late nights, and the vision to keep going. The stroke never left — it just went digital.
And while the industry still loves its quick hits and viral strokes, there’s a quiet revolution happening underneath it. It’s people like us — the builders, the storytellers, the Gen-Xers who know how to balance grit with gratitude. We’re not chasing the algorithm. We’re chasing authenticity.
Closing Reflection: From Billy to the Builders
Billy Squier’s message still echoes in every creator’s struggle:
“Put your left foot out, keep it all in place.”
That’s what CommonX is doing — staying grounded while the world moves fast. Humble enough to remember where we came from. Hungry enough to keep pushing. Because whether it’s a guitar riff or a podcast mic — if you’re building something real, you’re still in the business today.
Feel the Sound of GenerationX with Rare Vynl
Chris Ballew & Beck — When Weirdness Changed the World
Before the hits, Chris Ballew and Beck were friends exploring sound and freedom. Their playful experiments helped shape the 90s alternative rock landscape — and their creative bond still echoes through every note.
Real Talk. Common Ground.
Before stadium crowds sang Peaches and Lump, before Loser became an anthem for every art-school kid who never quite fit in, Chris Ballew and Beck Hansen were just two friends chasing sound in tiny rehearsal rooms.
In the early ’90s they shared basements, cheap tape decks, and a belief that rules were for other people. Beck was experimenting with folk-hip-hop collage; Ballew was testing what could happen if you cut half the strings off a bass. Out of that chaos came a friendship built on curiosity and humor—two kindred spirits learning that imperfection could be its own kind of perfection.
When Beck’s star began to rise, Ballew kept following the same muse back home in Seattle, forming The Presidents of the United States of America. The band’s stripped-down punch felt like a cousin to Beck’s collage pop: witty, raw, and fearless. Together they helped turn “alternative rock” from a label into a language—a space where experimentation, fun, and sincerity could all live in the same three-minute song.
“Playing with Beck reminded me that music is a sandbox, not a science,” Ballew told CommonX. “Every sound you make should surprise you a little.”
A Friendship That Still Resonates
Even decades later, you can hear echoes of those jam-session nights in everything Chris touches—whether it’s the joyful minimalism of the Presidents, his kids-music alter ego Caspar Babypants, or his new solo tracks recorded in his home studio.
That friendship with Beck wasn’t just a chapter; it was a spark that showed both artists how far pure play could go.
🔗 Hear the Conversation
Catch our full talk with Chris Ballew on The CommonX Podcast—streaming now on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube.