In that moment, I felt like a time traveler from 1991, a sad remnant of the pre-Internet days, when wearing Doc Martens with the laces undone and dumping Manic Panic in your hair and reading controversial novels was a way of distancing yourself from everything that was dull and normal about society. I realized that my revolution was long over … not because we’d lost, but because we’d won. We’d remade the world in our image, and the world didn’t care about us anymore. My teenage fantasy of a world connected by global networks and controlled by badass nerds, a world where subcultures and musical forms and narratives rise and fall quicker than the tides, has become the reality … and, as it always is, it’s so much less interesting than I imagined it to be.