Sobbish Nobbish

There's an interesting snippet in the Guardian today about the premature demise of "fifty quid bloke", aka the mythical creature who habitually dropped fifty notes onto the counter of Selectadisc or HMV and walked away with an armful of CDs. Apparently, he's been replaced by Download Woman, who likes to avoid record stores because they're populated by nerds who look down their nose-hairs at people with lesser tastes. The majority of Kerrang readers are women, it say here. Half of Q readers are women, too, even though all these magazines like to pretend to advertisers that they've got Fifty Quid Bloke sewn up like a good'n.

Download woman likes to keep her musical taste secret. The reason for this becomes apparent when you learn what Marie listens to on her iPod.

Far be it from me to poke fun. I used to visit every single record shop in town every time I went to town, and I hated the bloody lot of them. Especially Selectadisc, which is one of the few retail environments that actually made me want to kill both staff and customers. What a joy it was when Amazon started up. I no longer had to suffer under the whim of corporate buyers and could seek out my own slightly embarrassing musical choices unmolested by supercilious shitbirds with a heroin-chic fixation. They could barely conceal their contempt at my purchases, and I always wanted to ask, What you stock this for if you don't want my money?

Now, if only you could download guitars.