As of this writing I’m 47 years old. Hopefully a day will come when someone reads this and I’m 48, 49, or even 79. The point of stating my age is that I’ve been listening to, loving, and discussing music for a long time and any kids reading this owe their elders the time of day to attempt to understand what we may be getting at! I know what makes me tick, and I do my best here and elsewhere, whether by written or spoken word, to articulate that. If I fail to communicate what I intend to communicate now and then, I’ll do better next time. Today I want to take a misguided complaint someone made about a piece I wrote elsewhere and blow it up into a potentially more interesting thread for discussion.
On a personal blog that I started years ago and now very rarely update, Overlooked Gems of My Lifetime, some pipsqueak reacted to a piece I did on Tom Verlaine‘s Dreamtime. He misunderstands a reference I make to the guitar work on some 1960s records I love and goes into this badge-of-honor rant about how I’m not capable of appreciating Tom Verlaine and how he was so inspiring despite his lack of popularity. He also pulls out a reference to My Bloody Valentine, a one-trick pony that also is frequently lauded for being “fucking inspiring” despite the fact that few people ever bought their records, to further tear down my stodgy, mainstream point of view. Here’s the full text of Pipsqueak’s reply:
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