Ah, Thurston Moore. Do you ever take time off to reflect on your awesomeness? There are many boys—and many more men—who wish to be you (beyond the urge to snuggle with Kim). We desire the floppy hair, the awesome riffs, and the perpetual cool that wafts from you.
So now you go and rub it in with an album of 12-string tributes of the late, great Jack Rose. Vin Du Select Qualitite already had its own reputation and now you’ve gone and blown it up, for the better. Oh, how this should be a scathing rant on your foppish looks and the fatigue of an old man with a guitar but neither is true. If you were a notebook, I’d have etched hearts and arrows and guitars and lyrics across your face long ago. I’m sure I’m not the only one.