This article showed up the other day (fuckin, like fuckin dude like Bite or what it was then you remember ya and? little shows and bars that aren’t there anymore, people having like like little zines and whatnot, making tapes? fuck dude fuckin 90s eh) and was to be mentioned here first, but as it was then and is now little escapes Paul Wells. And you need not even ask, because of course. This is the modern day.
The reaction of self-satisfaction upon seeing someone from way back when incidentally mentioned in the Times is an unfortunate one, a servility to the paper of record that is beneath the thoughtful and should be gently ushered from our educated minds, but good or bad it needs a name.