Confessions Of A Record Store Junkie, Part IV

My own daughter called me a music snob the other day. Of course, I couldn’t disagree. This was retaliation; I’m sure, for me calling her a ‘fashionista’. Fashion is important to her, it always has been, but she sure doesn’t get her fashion sense from her old man. I’m lucky if I can match two socks in the morning and if I didn’t have a career that warranted wearing business attire I would most likely look and dress like a caveman.

So back to that music snob comment my daughter made. As I said, she’s right to a degree, but I think that term is a little too negative and I’m not quite sure I fit the textbook definition anymore. Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I was that guy at one time. I can vividly remember back in the 80’s in high school an incident that kind of cemented my status of a music snob of the First Order. I was out in the ‘smoking pit’ with a couple of friends and we were playing some punk rock via my ghetto blaster (God how ridiculous that sounds to me now) and some metal heads (we called them Skids…not really sure why) came over and told me they thought the music was pretty cool and asked who it was. I nonchalantly hit the eject button, pulled the tape out and threw it against the brick wall where it shattered into a million pieces. Then we left. What an asshole. What a dick move.

I have softened over the years, I must say, and my tastes have broadened quite a lot since then. But as far as being a music snob goes, yeah, I still kind of wear it as a bizarre little badge of honor. I’ve earned it, too, I think. I reckon I have devoted over 19,152 hours to music in my lifetime, or 798 complete days. That includes listening to albums, reading liner notes, reading books and magazines, watching video concerts, attending concerts, discussing music with friends, making mix tapes, etc. That is also a fairly conservative estimate; it’s probably higher.

But am I truly a ‘Music Snob’? Nah, not anymore. I’m opinionated, sure, but I’m no longer a raging, maniacal douche-bag of a pit bull about it. I still attempt to spread the word about bands and albums I am passionate about, naturally, or I wouldn’t do this here little blog.

I think a better term for what I have morphed into would be a Musical Missionary Musicologist. Yeah, that sounds about right.

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