Do yourself a favor: print out this editorial by David Brooks--shame of the Chicago Maroon--on acid free paper and store it in a cold dry place, or put it on your flash drive, or your Kindle, or on a server at your favorite hosting facility, and when you turn 50, reread it, and if you think, hey, that's me now, ask yourself why you are professionally self-conscious about taste, and think about technology throughout history as an evolutionary process and the role of early adopters and cultural exchange, and read Ecclesiastes, and just try not to be a dick about it going forward because if you even have time to think about eclecticism as an aesthetic you probably have it pretty damn good.
Plus: Hey, speaking of eclecticism, I can't say how much damage to society you would do by going to see a free in-store from a wonderful local, kind of obscure psychedelic rock band whose lyrics are all in Spanish, but Allá is playing Permanent Records tomorrow in support of the gorgeous new El Tiempo, which Miles Raymer convinced me was great, and it is. Local, "obscure" tastes--part of what makes Chicago, like many places throughout the world, a wonderful place to live. Or you could wait until they're in the New York Times or whatever.
Update: Now I'm listening to Lonely China Day's Sorrow. They're kind of the Coldplay of Beijing--the lead singer definitely picked up a bunch of tricks from Chris Martin. It's pretty interesting; I wouldn't say I'm a big fan, but it's pleasant and nice to work to. Incidentally, I didn't discover this through the Evil Internet but through the very 20th century medium of the newspaper promo copy dump box.
*Title of the e-mail from Chicagoland correspondent ptb that included this link.
Pvt to David Brooks: I'm listening to Keith Jarrett's recording of the Goldberg Variations; the next thing in my iTunes (ooh) library is Lifter Puller's Fiestas and Fiascoes. Because they're both remarkable works of human achievement that make me glad to be alive. [Blogger: raises middle finger.]