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The Annals of Rock Snobbery

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Some readers have complained about this site’s unabashed commerciality and entertainment-mindedness–evidently, it’s not okay to exist in the blogosphere for the purposes of promoting a book and providing uncomplicatedly fun stuff like free excerpts and free comix. So we’re going to make a concerted effort to be more “bloggy.”

First, we will work harder to write cryptic doodles in hipster code in the manner of Sasha Frere-Jones, whose words conjure a fascinating, impenetrable world of obtuse Brooklynites whose homespaces smell of acrylic paint. Okay, here goes: “Pajo’s latest squib didn’t bum me as much as it did Skelly, ’cos no one gets as bummed as Skelly, but I gotta say that I was tempted to hate on, but not as much as I hated on back in the day when Stump was cadging troutmask replicance from Beefheart. As my preschooler said the other day from the backseat, ‘Kick out the Shams, mubberflubber!’ His sputum and Gowanus bilge are the only things that turn my green hip-waders yellow.”

Next, we will say something reflexively mean about Pitchfork: “The kind of person who takes a side in the Killers v. the Bravery is the same kind of plaid-shirted, smug buttwipe who buys his music off Pitchfork and moons over Tube Sock Girl in the American Apparel ads.”

Is that more like it? Are we doing better now?

June 06, 2005 More Rock Snobbery »

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