(Originally ran Feb. 22, 2008)

In a fit of snobbery, I once purged my record collection of “dinosaurs” such as Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, ELO, Kiss and pretty much anything that wasn’t PC (punkishly correct).

It wasn’t the last time I got all Josef Stalin on my vinyl. In grad school, I excised the Beach Boys, Todd Rundgren, “lightweight” new wave such as XTC and The Psychedelic Furs, even, God help me, The Who.

Because one day the girl of my dreams was going to come to my apartment and decide I was her true love because I owned the 12-inch single of Sonic Youth’s “Star Power”? And she’d storm out in tears if she came across “Hermit of Mink Hollow”?

Something like that, I guess.

The introduction of CDs was a godsend, allowing me to re-acquire new copies of all those albums I sold. All of the aforementioned acts are back on my shelves (and/or on my hard drive).

There’s a contradiction when an avid music lover slips into snobbery. A casual fan will hear a song and like it or dislike it. For the snob, it just sets off a round of questions? Who’s the singer? What band was she/he in? Did Pitchfork review it yet?

Kind of sad when a music lover can’t tell if he loves music, right?

Part of this is a function of youth, when music is part of defining your personality, like the 16-year-old title character of “Juno” declaring her favorite band to be “a three-way tie between the Stooges, Patti Smith and the Runaways.”

But for some of us, and probably everyone who winds up being a music critic, snobbery sticks with us into adulthood - until that one, fateful day when I finally admitted to myself I’d rather hear the first Boston album than whatever hip, new and edgy artist was hot that week.

I still like hip, new and edgy music - I try to listen to every new performer I can because I never know where my new favorite is hiding. On the other hand, I bought “Foghat Live” the other day and I’m digging that as well.

I’m Curtis and I’m a recovering rock snob.