The official pecking order of music.
Super-insane-o fans who own every record ever, who go to shows so often their presence at the venue is explained to recently hired door guys as “That’s Greg,” who go to the club and read a book about photography during the Boer Wars in the back near the piano until the band with the girl in it plays, who have published multiple-issue fanzines about an incredibly specific thing you didn’t know existed like the mid-80’s Italian hair metal underground or late-70’s Times Square chicks-with-dicks peep show bands, who have a garage and a storage shed full of records and bootlegs that they couldn’t begin to tell the contents of, and who do not bathe because they cannot find their own shower even though they know it’s in there somewhere.