Fallen heroes

During my teenage years my biggest heroes were The Soundtrack of Our Lives. They were old farts playing very white, very male, psychedelic rock. I went to every show I could got to, I bought everything that was sold, knew the lyrics by heart and copied them to make my own songs. I even had a sweaty towel the drummer threw to me in my band shrine. I was obsessed.

And then one drunken teenage night I ditched them with a short you-don’t-progress-rant on the band’s forum. I had had enough. Their albums were not living up toy expectations and I was bored with the constant praise the band received in the forum.

The next morning I woke up to another member replying with a friendly I-believe-your-drunk-post.

I didn’t dare to reply and left the forum that day.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.