I don't know what's more shocking: His untimely tragic death or how many people turn out to love bland nickelbackesque mediocrity.

The latter by far.

The latter. I couldn't bring myself to listen to their music like I do when most good musicians die.

I won't be listening to it. But I did when I was growing up.

When you were a chimp? And where's your avvy?

Kinda hard to have a Murray avy when he lost.

What really tears me up the most is the fact that we're entering a new age of celebrity death. Until now, "the greats" have been dying. Bowie, Cohen, etc. But now we have Chested the Molested. Basically, the death of bad musicians cheapens the death of great musicians. I need my celebrity grief to be pure.

So the ****ty musicians of the past were immortal?

I just wasn't paying attention then. Now it's everywhere on social media and the net.