Tu quoque, Fabio, fratri mi

Nobody understands me. I'm, like, fifteen again.
So, the other day—and I'm telling this just to point out the inanity of my thoughts and my life and general—I had a conversation with my brother about the state of our relationship.
The exchange quickly spiralled down from the sort-of important topics to utter irrelevance, eventually stopping just short of doing the "nyah-nyah-nyah" thing.
While the debate was getting heated Fabio pronounced the (from now on memorable) phrase "and then, you like electronic music...", a shrug clearly audible in his voice 4,000 miles away. I went silent. I was caught off-guard.
"What... er... and you don't?" I was only able to reply.
"Not really" he said, thinking. "No. Not really."
Silence. It got awkward.
"Not like you do" he continued... trying to sugarcoat it.
I jumped to the occasion. It was my chance to be aggressive again, in charge.
"You don't know what I like." Ball in my court. Then in an attempt to make little things appear metaphorical I go: "You don't know my life!"
Then I cringed at the drama-queen-ness of it.
Oh, so your opinion counts now? I introduce you to the mysteries of P2P file-sharing and all you do is downloading boy bands songs requested by your children.
Ingrato!
We went on and on, high and low... but after we hung up, and the next day, I reconsidered the decades of recommendations, the forced listening sessions, the in-retrospect-misplaced "how awesome is that?"

I guess Fabio won't care much for my obsession of the week, Sally Shapiro. She sounds like a Saint Etienne parody. But this stuff is Scandinavian, artificial (she really doesn't exist, how awesome is that?), and retro-electro. Oh, totally italo-disco too. Doesn't she have Lapo stamped all over her? Check out the websites: all the three big (well, kinda) songs are downloadable for free.