Rockist Culpa

I think I’m a rockist. And I’m OK with that. Also: the very first night I was in D.C., not more than two days out of college, I ended up at a bar bantering with someone who expressed a clear disdain for cheap thrill shill, Sasha Frere-Jones. I think I defended him. Clearly, I was young and stupid. Thank goodness that’s over.