The best performers had either died, decayed or fractured, leaving behind them a vocabulary of musical ideas, lyrical techniques and subject matter, styles and body languages which had never been given the opportunity to mature but had, instead, been aped by the very world of Showbiz against which they had originally revolted. And everything else was just the same—a load of oily entrepreneurs with their hair a little longer, their clothes occasionally a little easier on the eyes, their language an eager combination of professional slang and adman quasi-technical.