First I was like, oh, man: I can't believe this album is 30 years old—I must be old again; I should post something about it. Then I was all maybe it's a bit much, considering. Then I thought, hmmm, there are actually quite a few interesting intersections to consider, beyond the obvious themes of death, alienation, connection, queerness, privacy, community, rage at the government, contempt for bigotry, the comfort of despair, the refuge of wit, the prison of wit, the armor of camp, the importance of good hair, and the eternal and incomparable solace of love, however impermanent it is certain to be. Which is when I thought, jeez, I should just post the whole album, which was the Smiths's Sgt. Pepper's—not their best LP, but certainly their most. The moment I heard it, The Queen Is Dead opened a window onto a world of music, culture, feeling, identification, and refusal that I have never regretted climbing through.