Well said. I like to imagine some old guy holding the pink FT pages in a London cafe, peering over his reading glasses while egg drips off of his toast onto his pleated houndstooth trousers.
some old guy holding the pink FT pages in a London cafe
Where do you think the people going to those raves in the early 90s ended up? As old guys who now have well paid corporate jobs in the city and read FT.
That guy could probably bore the crap out of today's youth with stories about how raves and music used to "authentic" and how everything today is crap.
