Written by Christian Bradford.
Cory Feldman, the actor once known for his roles in beloved 80s films, has recently found himself tangled in the throes of a mid-life crisis so public, even his teenage self would blush. With the hair dye of a twenty-something TikTok star and the guitar skills of your uncle after three beers at a barbecue, Feldman has embarked on a bizarre quest to remind the world that he, too, was once kind of famous.
In what can only be described as a fever dream of faded stardom, Feldman’s hair now resembles a kaleidoscope gone wrong, sporting hues not found in nature but perhaps on a particularly rebellious parrot. The irony here is as thick as the layer of dye caked on his scalp—after all, nothing screams rock and roll like desperately clinging to youth while strumming out-of-tune chords on an electric guitar.
And speaking of that guitar—oh, the guitar. The instrument that’s become the unfortunate victim of Feldman’s mid-life whimsy, as he plucks and strums with the confidence of someone who’s just discovered what a G chord is. One could argue that his guitar playing is an abstract form of art, much like a Jackson Pollock painting—if that painting was created with only the color beige.
Public Displays of Non-Rockery
It’s not enough that Cory Feldman has dyed his hair and picked up a guitar—no, he’s decided to broadcast this to the world as if we were all clamoring for a front-row seat to his existential breakdown. In a move that could only be interpreted as a cry for help or attention (or both), Feldman has taken to social media, where he awkwardly strums his guitar like a man who has only ever seen someone else play one on TV.
This isn’t just a fleeting hobby, folks—Feldman seems determined to turn his mid-life crisis into a full-blown career revival. He’s released new music, which, much like his guitar playing, can only be appreciated by those with an affinity for the painfully awkward. The songs are as disjointed as his hair colors, blending genres and sounds in a way that suggests he’s throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks. Spoiler alert: nothing sticks.
Despite the obvious lack of musical talent, Feldman’s public performances have been nothing short of mesmerizing—if by mesmerizing, you mean the way a train wreck is mesmerizing. You can’t look away, no matter how much you want to, and you’re left wondering how this happened. How did a man once adored by millions end up here, crooning into a microphone like a lounge singer at the world’s saddest casino?
The Rock Star Persona That Never Was
If Feldman’s current antics seem a bit out of place, it’s because they are. This isn’t a man rediscovering his roots or returning to a passion left behind—this is a man creating a persona out of thin air. Feldman has never been known for his musical prowess, and yet here we are, being subjected to the auditory equivalent of nails on a chalkboard as he insists on being something he’s not.
It’s almost endearing, in a way, watching someone so clearly out of their element but trying so hard to fit in. Almost. The problem is that Feldman isn’t just dabbling in music for fun—he’s charging people to watch him stumble through songs as if he’s headlining a major festival. The cognitive dissonance between the image he’s trying to project and the reality of what he’s producing is staggering.
But perhaps the most ironic part of this whole saga is that Feldman seems to believe that this is what the world has been missing. He’s not just playing music; he’s trying to embody a rock star persona, complete with leather jackets, sunglasses at night, and an attitude that screams, “I’m relevant, I swear!” It’s as if someone forgot to tell him that rock and roll isn’t just about the look—it’s about the music, and that’s the one thing he seems to have forgotten to master.
Our Take
Let’s be clear—Cory Feldman’s attempt to reinvent himself as a rock star is bad. Not bad in a charming, “so bad it’s good” way, but bad in the way that makes you cringe and feel slightly embarrassed for him. His guitar playing is mediocre at best, his hair dye is a visual assault, and his performances are the stuff of nightmares. This is not the second coming of rock and roll; this is a mid-life crisis playing out in real time, and we’re all being forced to watch.
Why is this bad for the public? Because it sets a dangerous precedent. Feldman’s insistence on pushing forward despite his obvious lack of talent could inspire others to do the same, flooding the world with more misguided attempts at rock stardom. Before we know it, every washed-up actor with a penchant for hair dye and a misplaced sense of confidence could be picking up a guitar and subjecting us to their musical misadventures.
This isn’t just about Feldman; this is about the broader implications for society. We’ve reached a point where the line between talent and delusion is blurrier than ever, and Feldman is leading the charge. So, please, for the sake of our collective sanity, let’s not encourage this behavior. Let’s all agree that some things are better left in the past—like Feldman’s musical career, for example.
The amazing Cory Feldman jamming out. Out of all the concerts I’ve been to this has to be one of the greatest moments pic.twitter.com/1PU2jITZji
— Robert Kelly (@robertkelly) August 1, 2024