Maybe part of aging gracefully is not being so square about needing to make sense to oneself. I’m okay with Jamie Stewart bashing groups that sound Beach Boys-influenced on his website, and I’m okay with some recent Beach Boys-influenced tracks. I can consider the upcoming 2011 Athens, Georgia Popfest to be dorkily back-looking for booking Throwing Muses and the Dead Milkmen as headliners, but may I also have permission to be stoked to behold my high-school dream concert? S’not like it deletes Austra or Girl Unit from my iPod. And isn’t insisting on time-based taste-standards as bad or worse as the old pre-syncretist days of the 90s when a clerk could tell me that I couldn’t purchase Kilo and R.E.M. at the same time?