After some small talk [Cage] informed me my music was “irritating” — which took me completely by surprise. I thought of my work as so mild, so tentative, so middle-of-the-road — especially compared to his. A bit of prodding on my part revealed the culprit: the electric guitar.
Composer Nicolas Collins from this essay, The Cage in My Life” about meeting with John Cage.
It was a feet of clay kind of moment. After a lifetime of trying to eradicate personal taste, not only in his composition but in his boosterism of the experimental community at large, the cracks were beginning to show. He had his preferences. He knew what he liked and what he disliked. He wasn’t a god. He was human. An old human.