The first time I noticed it, I might have been as young as 10. First the question, seemingly innocuous, but even then I knew it was a trap. Even then I knew that, answered, the question would condemn me most certainly and swiftly. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

On that occasion I listed some people I had heard on the radio. “Oh,” rejoining haughtily, “So top 40, then?” And I understood that I had ruined it. By adolescence, I had developed a speech about how I didn’t like the question, about how people assumed they could figure you out by your musical tastes. But, perhaps even more decisively, that ruined it too. It was unnaturally defensive, and for the most part, ill-conceived. As it turns out, you probably can get some worthwhile idea about people by their musical tastes.

The rub of it was, at least then, I didn’t have any musical taste. Now I liked music, but for some reason it felt personal, and, what’s more, there could be no question I was very much out of fashion. The first album I bought was Duran Duran’s Arena, about a year after a boy could do that with any kind of impunity. And the first concert I went to was Gowan. It was just Gowan then. Now that he doesn’t have a career, he’s Larry Gowan. I even bought a Gowan bandana that I don’t believe, quite smartly, I’ve ever worn.

Like any kind of fashion sense, or sense of self, I developed what might be called musical taste very late. Periodically, I am still asked the question and I answer it honestly. As with my fashion sense, as with my sense of self, it is best to describe your musical tastes unapologetically. Be unassailable.

Yes, probably, my musical tastes are bland and predictable and not terribly brave. Yes, like 16 year old pimply girls who think they might have many troubles, I too like John Mayer. Yes, I like that master of queso, Enrique Iglesias. But I also like U2, Sam Roberts, Portishead, Dido, Sonic Youth, No Doubt, and what’s more, I remain unapologetic.

SS