He said we were spiritually bankrupt. Economically bankrupt. But, worst of all- music had died. We were left with something. The radios still turned on. But what came out wasn’t anything worth listening to. I believed my father until I turned fourteen and went to a firehouse punk show. There was music everywhere, I realized, it was just hiding. And it was still willing to give itself to anyone who took the time to find it.
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