Although it is sunny, I've had my nose stuck into several books today following on from the re-revelation that re-reading a book a few years afterwards is the same as reading a brand new book.
This used to irritate me when, as a child for instance, I couldn't rediscover the magic of reading the Narnia books; however, I've been able to read Gerald Durrell's My Family and Other Animals loads of times and I've found it just as entrancing every time.
It happens with music too, doesn't it? Suddenly the magical song becomes mundane and you have lost your grip on the thread of meaning that the song had; it no longer transports you away to a place of physical fantasy.
Digression aside, I am mining information anew from Dave Laing's One Chord Wonders (the best book about punk, ever, and just about to be re-published by Equinox, I believe), George Lipsitz's Dangerous Crossroads and Mavis Bayton's Frock Rock.
Academic books are simultaneously wrong and right and you stack up scales to balance what you believe to be true against what you believe to be nonsense, based on your own cultural position.
Unfortunately, your own cultural position is in a constant state of flux.
Bugger this, I'm going to do some recording instead.