The Rock Snob is a confounding person in your life. On one hand, he brooks no ignorance of pop-music history, and will take violent umbrage at the fact that you’ve never heard of the noted rock arranger and soundtrack composer Jack Nitzsche, much less heard Nitzsche’s ambitious pop-classical album, St. Giles Cripplegate. On the other hand, he will not countenance the notion that you know more than he about a certain area of music. If, for example, you mention that Fun House is your favorite Stooges album, he will respond that it “lacks the visceral punch of ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ from a year earlier, but it’s got some superb howling from Iggy and coruscating riffage from Ron Asheton, though not on the level of James Williamson’s on Raw Power”—this indigestible clump of words acting as a cudgel with which the Rock Snob is trumping you and marking the turf as his.
Do you know what the worst thing about this para is? I completely agree with it!!! For those who know me, do you think I am a rock snob?