I was enduring one of those hideously awkward getting-to-know-you tutorial conversations today (incidentally with a guy studying organisational psychology who referred to mental health clinics as “nut houses”) when I was asked what music I like. Normally I would make the effort to mount a firm defense for my discriminating embrace of pop, but to lessen the general awkwardness, I did a quick mental scan for appropriate music to mention — all I could come up with was that I had “eclectic taste”. “Not like Britney?”, was the response. As I switched off my ipod which was, at the time, playing Britney’s whimsical Unusual You, I acknowledged that I would not necessarily reject such music, but then flagged Morrissey as something on current rotation. I have no conviction.

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