He was Midas for music. Every song he told me about became a small fascination of mine. Thumb through my albums and you’ll find one that’s got a jacket worn from overuse. He probably told me about that band. Hell, he probably told me about the whole sub-genre.
His taste was fresh. Sometimes I’d hear a song and think, “I bet he’ll like this.” But no matter how well I’d figured out his taste, he’d already be on to something new, and he’d show it with the patient non-expression on his face when I’d play my new discovery for him.