DISCOVERING The Pogues was a big moment for me, and not just because the music pushed all the right traditionalist and subversive buttons. A friend--a cool friend--introduced me to The Pogues, making me cool by association. Well, maybe not cool, but perhaps a bit cooler than I was before.

And that's the way people used to discover new music. You knew a guy who had an older brother who listened to Mr. Bungle, and a tape would eventually filter down the chain into your Walkman.

Music moved in fairly tight circles. If you wanted to hear something new, you had to find someone new, or maybe take a chance on an interesting album cover at the record shop.

A lot of music lived in the shadows, passed from fan to fan like a top-secret dossier. A road trip in someone else's car, a freshman year roommate, a new girlfriend--those were all opportunities to broaden your musical horizons.

Actively seeking out new music took effort. You had to go to a concert, or go early for the opening band. You had to buy magazines, go to the library or strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Times have changed. There aren't many shadows left in the music world.

You might expect me to lament the loss of personal interaction in the discovery process, or decry the effortless way people can tap into fresh wells of music these days. But I can't. As much as I want to be the cool friend exposing you to new music, you just don't need me. We are living in the golden age of music discovery.

A number of readers tell me that they just don't know the music that I mention here. Thirty years ago, it might have been cruel of me to simply mention a band or a song and not delve into the intricacies of their sound. These days, it really is easier for readers to delve on their own.