Today, we connect online, we find a universe of articles and fans sites and links and history and community among like-minded people around the world. It is hard to remember the fabric of a pre-internet, pre-iPod, pre-video on demand world, but I clearly had a sentimental attachment to the sensation of having a secret, of loving something and finding almost no connection among members of my community, my friends, my peers is that even possible anymore? I have a very young son, and I often wonder if he will ever feel what it is like to not know a single person who shares his passion for an artist, an idea, a song. From the moment the needle hit the vinyl on my shitty, department store turntable, I was literally tranformed into another person. I was a thriteen year-old heavy metal-loving dork living in working class Michigan in 1984 when, on Easter vacation in Toronto, I stumbled upon Chronic Town in a cutout bin at Sam The Record Man on Yonge St. is the absolute seminal band for me their albums are the soundtrack of my life. I can hear you, can you hear me?–R.E.M., Sitting Still
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