He presses play on the famous rockstar's very early demo and watches me expectantly. Having made a few demos myself in the eighties, the sound is familiar: the tinny guitar tones, the compression and distortion, the not-quite-there rhymes and melodies.
My internal wince of recognition must have crept into my expression, because he says, "You're one of the only people to ever hear this. I mean, when I first heard it, I cried."
"I'm sorry I'm not reacting appropriately," I say.
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