I was there, man….
While quitting things too early may not strike you as unfashionable lateness, I assure you it’s merely the dialectic negation required for true UL-osity. And so as OiNK goes, before I’d really milked it for its goods, so goes Stylus, the music website I helped kick off and quit right around the time it was getting good. But I was there from the beginning, man. Back when it was the Oligarchist Home Journal and I was writing cheeky reviews of Pootie Tang in my underwear. See, while I was learning the hard facts of college life, like how to smoke weed in the dorm bathroom and juggle girls, with the occasional crappy take on some pointless record or another, Todd was learning HTML and hiring and firing, staying up late at night making something beautiful and valuable and maddening but always interesting.
I was there when we recruited writers (mostly shit) from the old Pitchfork messageboard.
I was there when Pitchfork turned around and snatched the best writer away to make their editor.
I was there when they kicked off Pop Playground, when in some weird fevered burst of creativity rarely to be matched I wrote 3,000 words on the first N.E.R.D. album, when I convinced Todd to add comments to the pages like on Bogdan Raczynski’s site (oh yeah I’ll take credit for that), when one of my reviews got published in an actual paper magazine (gee, only like FOUR YEARS ago), when I garbled out a stoned screed about Britney Spears’ In The Zone that somehow now qualifies as a credible citation on Wikipedia, when I tried to start a fashion column when I knew absolutely nothing about fashion, when I started accruing actual promos and for whatever reason couldn’t bear to review them (apologies to Lil Jon, the Greensleeves label, J.G. Thirwell, and most of all to Genghis Tron who sent me a beautiful 10-inch record for nothing — I bought your latest album out of the guilt I still feel).
I was there.
And then I wasn’t.
And now it’s gone.
I’m fucking old.