Wealth & Money Quote by Robert Quine

There is a particular kind of New York bravery in walking away from a “tax job” for the promiscuous uncertainty of a band. Quine’s phrasing is blunt, almost anti-mythic: no destiny, no epiphany, just a clean quit and a practical plan. That’s the first signal of intent. He’s not selling romance; he’s documenting a pivot the way a working person would, with the implicit understanding that the stakes are rent, not legend.

The subtext hums with the late-70s downtown ecosystem: the Village Voice classifieds as a pre-internet social network, a DIY labor market where culture got assembled out of small print and borrowed gear. “I answered ads” strips artistry down to logistics. You don’t get discovered; you apply. You hustle. The auditioning detail - “two days” - adds a small, revealing grind. This isn’t the solitary genius model. It’s selection pressure, personalities, tastes, and stamina, the social mechanics behind scenes that later get mythologized as effortless cool.

Quine’s context matters because his legacy is tangled with punk and post-punk’s suspicion of polish. The quote’s plainness performs that ethic. It also hints at a quieter emotional narrative: quitting a stable job isn’t just about ambition, it’s about refusing a life that already feels like someone else’s script. The Village Voice becomes the exit sign, and the auditions are the price of admission to a community that, at the time, was still inventing itself.