Our tastes evolve when it comes to food, fashion and books, yet we remain faithful to the record collections of our formative years, says Chris Moss.
On a recent, carefully audience-targeted BBC4 music show, I was dismayed to see a chubby fiftysomething Morrissey performing 'Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want' on the garishly lit stage of what looked like a medium-sized US stadium.
His shape, the times, his career, the context, the crowd (lots of American kids) – it all seemed out of joint. The once ironic-pathetic egotism of the song now seemed knowing and cynical, and the singer pathetic in the ordinary way. Millionaire memoirist Mozzer surely got what he wanted, didn’t he?
But the clip hinted at the ....
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