My son Oscar is three – he’s got a Beatles T-shirt, a Sonic Youth T-shirt, he’s outgrown a couple of AC/DC (“AB/CD”) ones. He’s just been given a Ramones T-shirt. He carries around his CDs (“I hate your music Daddy, I want MY MUSIC!” – atta boy!) in a vinyl Beatles over-the-shoulder bag. There was never really any hope for him, sure. But most of his mus…
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