Tratando de preparar un artículo sobre Keith Rowe, me puse a leer una entrevista online y llegué a la siguiente respuesta*:

“I attended Art School in Plymouth, and it was a very provincial art school, but the great thing was that the other guy in my painting group was Mike Westbrook! He was older than the rest of us and was interested in forming a jazz group, and I became involved in that. It had lots of wonderful names like Hieronymous Bosch and the Burgers or Emily Stomp: Music in a Modern Manner! (laughs) I didn't play guitar before that. My family weren't musical at all. We had a radio in the house, so I was brought up with that. I didn't have any formal lessons; for about five years I spent about four or five hours a day listening to Charlie Christian, Barney Kessel and Wes Montgomery. I could do reasonable imitations of all those people. But as I've said many times elsewhere, that was at odds with what I was doing in the painting class, which was about finding out who you were, what you had to say. As somebody in the Scratch Orchestra (was it Ian Mitchell?) once said, "art school is like five years of developing your quirk." In the painting class I was finding out who I was, making the kind of paintings which were uniquely mine, in a way which was uniquely mine, but with the guitar I was just slavishly copying American guitar players. This was late 1950s, early 1960s”.

Lo cual, obviamente, me llevó a volver a pensar en el tocho de Simon Frith (única bibliografía anotada por Simon Reynolds en su libro sobre post-punk). Hace poco lo deje pasar por unos 60 $, con gastos de envío porque quería comprar como, otros 9 libros. Realmente, uno no sabe, si algún día llego a comprarlo que esperaré de él, cuando me ponga a leerlo. En todo caso me imaginé haciendo un fotomontaje de el libro llegando a la estantería de mi biblioteca canturreando el “It’s me bitches” y golpeando a las historias de la música country o los libros de estética dentro de la música rock. Los “Escritos” de Lacan murmurarían y mirarían por encima del hombro al irreverente recién llegado, y los tomos sobre música y teoría estética de Adorno, con su estreñimiento habitual, ni siquiera pensarían estar en la misma habitación que el susodicho. Lo cual es gracioso porque uno lo tengo todavía prestado y los otros aún no los he comprado. Aunque prometo hacerlo. Después de los tochos sobre música electrónica en la clásica contemporánea.

*Difícil hubiera sido no llegar si es la primera respuesta.