I was rather stung by a comment one of the youngsters on my team made this week when we were discussing music. "You don't like anything that was made after 1989!" he grumped.
"I beg your pardon," I replied. "Just because a man likes Morrissey and still wears his hair like Dave Gahan, you suggest he's stuck in the '80s.How very dare you!"
I didn't tell him that I was planning to spend Saturday night going to see Martin Stephenson and The Daintees who had reformed 22 years after the release of their debut album, Boat To Boliva.
The Daintees were one of the first acts to sign to Newcastle's Kitchenware records in the mid '80s and were part of the same scene that spawned Prefab Sprout and The Kane Gang. While great commercial success eluded them, they had a loyal and affectionate following in Scotland and they toured here many times.
Martin Stephenson is a gifted but idiosyncratic performer and you never know what you're going to get when you go along to his gigs. Sometimes his between song patter can be charming and funny, but last night I thought his unfocused ramblings were in danger of overshadowing the music.
I was looking forward to reliving those old Daintees gigs at places like The Venue in Aberdeen and The Pavillion in Glasgow. It turned out to be disappointing nostalgia trip, so tonight I'm going to see Rufus Wainwright, who was only 10 when The Daintees were at their peak. That should silence my critics in the office!