Melissa Auf Der Mar, The Knitting Factory

I’m not one prone to moments of flat-out schoolgirl-like fandom at rock shows. I have songs I adore and that I’ll lose my shit to when played live, and I’ll scream for those if it seems appropriate (so, basically not at a Patti Smith show). But, really, unless it’s Tori Amos, I’m not going to use every fiber of my being (and every fiber in my larynx-do larynxes have fibers? Probably) to shred my voice with incessant “I love you”s to rock stars onstage at concerts. They’re fucking rock stars, remember-we pay them to love us. In the old days, that was called prostitution.

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