Whether your entry point into the magick of pop music is "Tutti Frutti", "She Loves You", "Under My Thumb", "I'm Eighteen", "White Riot", "Territorial Pissings", or "Papua New Guinea", you'll eventually reach the point of diminishing returns. You continue like a junkie desperate to reach the heights of those first few hits of heroin (you may end up like one of those aging Teddy Boys, looking like a down-market Fat Elvis), or move along, akin to doing Ken Kesey's "Acid Test Graduation".

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