And it's still governed by the same set of rules.
Music snobbery, err, excuse me, "musicology", is all about one-upmanship.
And the rules are quite simple:
When discussing the next big thing, always go for the cutting edge, which in plain English means whatever band or artist is the least likely to have been heard of. When they say Death Cab For Cutie, be ready to counter with the Secret Machines.
When busted with a ticket for that big U2 or Coldplay show at the Microsoft Arena, let them know that you are only there for the opening act.
"I haven't cared about U2 since Joshua Tree; I'm just here to see the Arcade Fire."
And pick your guilty pleasures carefully.
Where having an album by the Raspberries in your collection may get you a pass ("Eric Carmen was a Power Pop God before he sold out"), having one by say, the Little River Band, will not.
But where the real art of music snobbery has begun to lose its way in recent years is in the single most cardinal rule.
Know your history.
For the true, unrepentant music snob, the ability to counter one man's Al Green with your own Otis Redding is absolutely crucial.
At least it once was.
Somewhere around the time of Nirvana's Nevermind album and the whole Seattle Sub Pop Records thing, all of that changed.
When I worked in music business in L.A. in the early nineties, in an office at a record company with a bunch of twenty something hipsters, I just could never figure them out.
On the one hand, Monday mornings were always this constant battle of one-upmanship.
In an era where "indie cred" was the hipster holy grail, these guys would gather around to swap their stories of who saw the most obscure band over the weekend.
The thing that always got me were the names of the bands.
At one point it even seemed everybody had a Jesus complex. There was the Jesus Lizard, the Jesus and Mary Chain, MC 900 Foot Jesus...
Yet, not a one of them could be engaged in a conversation about music dating back further than like 1990.
It was as though time had frozen with Nevermind.
And that was about the time I got off the bus for good and permanently hung up my hat as a card-carrying music snob.
The "musicologist" in me however, remains alive and quite well thank you.
So point that Sting album somewhere else okay?