There are several stages of grief. First, denial. (“I will pretend that any Rolling Stones album released after Tattoo You doesn’t exist.”) Then, anger. (“Why did I waste my money on Bridges to Babylon? In what universe was Mick Jagger singing over Biz Markie samples a good idea?”) And then bargaining. (“If I sell Steel Wheels and Dirty Work, I can use the money to buy the latest Dylan box set, because owning eighteen versions of ‘Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat’ will prevent me from hyperventilating.”) What’s left is acceptance. Acceptance is hard.
