I’m 50 and so not of the Fugazi generation. I wouldn’t know a Fugazi song if it ran me over on Wisconsin Avenue. To me, there are Elvis and the Beatles—forget everyone else. So I guess I have an outside perspective on last week’s long-winded screed directing blame for what’s wrong with the D.C. post-punk music scene in one direction (“In on the Killjoy,” 10/17). I’ll volunteer that the article, although well-written, apparently factually informed, and at times humorous, was without a doubt mean-spirited (and we thought only those “evil” Republicans the author takes an irrelevant swipe at were mean-spirited) when it came to running down an obviously durable band that has achieved a degree of a success on its own terms—doing things its own way. As far as the fun factor, I can’t imagine that 15 to 20 years in the music biz is always a lot of fun. No one’s job is fun all the time.

Heck, people pay big bucks to listen to Springsteen, Bono, and other populist rockers doling out self-righteous proclamations from the stage. So if the Fugazi fans accept this as part of what the band does and stands for, then everyone involved is happy, except the author, who by the way is awfully serious about a band that he believes is too serious.

Fact is, popular music has always provided fertile ground for passionate debate—in 1938, they may have argued pro and con if Benny Goodman was truer to swing music than someone else. In 1958, there may have been after-school fistfights over whether Buddy Holly was a better guitarist than Chuck Berry. In 1968, there must have been stoned arguments on Jim Morrison/Doors lyrics/poetry—profound or not? It wasn’t anything to get worked up over then and it still isn’t.

And so it continues here in the 21st century….And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go put Rubber Soul on my turntable and listen to some good music.

Bethesda, Md.