I guess those sessions were fraught, and indeed the band immediately went on a hiatus that never ended, but that's not what I took away from that conversation. What I took away from that conversation was that that dude was a douchebag. He was less interested in what that album meant to me and more interested in showing me what a totally superior music industry insider he was.
Did I then go on and tell him about the hours I spent in practice rooms emulating the Trip version of "The Ballad of El Goodo"?
Did I tell him how, on multiple recordings of my own, I imitated John Munson's enthusiastic "Let's go!" that kicks off "Dead Set on Destruction"?
Did I tell him how just hearing the 3-4-5 bass walkup that starts album closer "Helpless" took me back to the final song of the final Trip show I saw on December 15, 1992 and, more importantly, made me feel like all my intense young adult emotions were manageable and surviveable?
Nope. Did we play at his venue again? Also nope.
The point is, don't be that guy. Maybe he wasn't even usually that guy (but I'm pretty sure he was) and he was just triggered into a trauma dump by memories of those sessions. I fully understand how tempting it is to be that superior guy, but no one will actually be impressed and people will just not tell you things.
Also, Volt is an amazing album and you should totally check it out. I'm about to listen to it right now! Hooray!