“When you wander the streets of New York at night alone, every street urchin and clammy prostitute will eventually sidle up to you and relate some story about that wild year when he or she was an avant-garde jazz luminary. You just have to politely smile, pay for the dope, and explain that playing no music while living in total degradation is not avant-garde. The term "avant-garde" itself has slaug”
