Where do outsider musicians go if the mainstream never lets them in? They stay outside, clawing at the window panes like Emily Brontë ghosts.
Bobby Conn's closest encounter with acceptance came over 10 years ago with his inspired Prince pastiche "Winners", but the Chicago eccentric is still out there doing his bubble-glam/skinny-tie/electro-funk thing, and there's enough on the highly politicised Macaroni to justify stepping outside to find him.
Reuse content
