Saturday Night Live.

Sunday morning confused.

There was a time when I was unbelievably excited to watch the musical guests on Saturday Night Live, no matter if the talent was unknown to me, on the verge of stardom or a well established act with new product to promote.

Lately, I have been befuddled and quite disappointed.

KATSEYE whose album recently hit #1 on the Billboard 200 chart was this season’s opening musical act. Personally, I cannot comprehend the musical appeal of the girl’s group or the single, Hootie Fruiti, but acknowledge that they have a distinct look and dance club vibe.

Turnstile, the controversial hardcore punk band whose drummer did a rather pallid impersonation of Iggy Pop, left me cold this past Saturday night.

Am I getting old?

Many of the musical guests make me feel as though I have wandered into a nightclub during a medical emergency.

I am waiting for the song to start when everyone applauds.

Look, I appreciate theatricality. I survived disco, Amanda Lear, the Singing Nun, Pere Ubu, shoulder pads and Madonna’s cone bra. But beneath the spectacle there was usually a song. You could sing it in the car. Dance to it at a wedding. Make several regrettable decisions to it.

Yes, our parents hated our music. I recognize the terrible possibility that I have become my mother. Apparently, the transition happens overnight, without paperwork.

I do think I recognize interesting music after spending decades in the music business.

Perhaps these artists are brilliant. Perhaps I need a younger nervous system or a breakup conducted entirely through emojis.

I still want to discover new music. Give me someone who makes me put down my phone, turn up the volume and wonder who is that on the radio.

I am perfectly willing to expand my horizons, although I prefer that there is a melody.

Photo:SNL