My sister owns several Rage Against The Machine albums. This recent discovery unsettled me greatly. Although it sounds dramatic, it was as if I didn't know who she was anymore. Her music tastes had always been more moderate (the edgiest she ever got was when she downloaded a Good Charlotte album from iTunes), and I felt betrayed she had managed to smuggle these screamo CD's through our front door without even telling me. However, upon further contemplation I realised that liking this affronting music is a stage all sixteen year olds go through, in a vicious quest to have the stereotypical angst-ridden adolescence The Catcher in The Rye says you should be having. Just as my sister has Rage Against the Machine, I had Nirvana, although the interest was brief (and paled pathetically in comparison to Chris' obsession which continues to this day) and had less to do with their actual music, and more to do with the Kurt and Courtney melodrama, complete with rainy Seattle weather, Frances Bean and various drugs and mental issues, that was meticulously documented by Rolling Stone. Nicola had Incubus, before moving onto more reputable names such as The Clash and The Sex Pistols, and most stereotypical teenage boys own a few Blink 182 albums, or of they are really edgy a CD from one of Tom DeLonge's side bands. This thought allowed me to relax, and let my sister listen to the wailing sounds of Killing in the Name in peace (although that is kind of a juxtaposition).