If you take a 70s music artist and popped them into today to make a run for it, they would undoubtedly fail.

Could you imagine someone like Geddy Lee auditioning for America’s Got Talent?

How about listening to a David Bowie album without the crutch of auto-tune as you pick up every failed note?

Do you think Janis Joplin would’ve stood a chance against the glam of overly-sexualized photoshopped singers and their pop melodies?

While I happily admit to being a 90s junkie, the music of the seventies has this timeless appeal because it was raw. There was something authentic about it that you can’t get away with today.

Sure, it’s nice to have artists push the boundaries of what is possible and the formidable singers of today stand on the shoulders of those before them, you’d be pressed to see artists put their flaws first and marketing second. This is probably the reason we owe a debt of gratitude to that era of music over any other (although I still maintain Alanis Morisette is grossly under-appreciated for what she did for women and music… and music in general).

We’re accelerating towards an age of artificial intelligence, which commands perfection in all its actions. This is great for tasks like driving, surgery and construction where you hope for nothing but flawless outcomes, but there’s an unease for areas that require a personal connection.

Students connect with teachers who show their vulnerability.

Forgiveness only works if at least one party understands an action was hurtful.

The best art, and by best I capitulate to the barometer of timeless, is flawed (Hey Shakespeare, giant plot hole in Romeo & Juliet: Juliet could’ve just joined Romeo in exile).

Perhaps it’s time we stop pointing to the flaws as something wrong, but rather something to celebrate.