I've never watched an episode of Skins, wouldn't know a Jonas Brother if he pinched my bum on the tube and would rather be strapped naked to a mobile communications satellite and fired into space than sit through a whole episode of Gavin and Stacey. However, I do know that Bon Ivor isn't a French rhino, would give anything to sing in a cathedral with Fleet Foxes and I can remember what I was doing when Courtney shot her husband. I like to think that fits me nicely into mid-20's culture vulture demographic. Cut to first BBQ of the year on saturday. A friend puts on the 4AD 'Dark Was The Night' compilation. I ask 'Who was that band?' 15 times. Queue late 20's identity crisis.