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My friend Josh was in town last weekend and we all gathered for brunch, and as as he was scrolling trough his iPhone he (somewhat jokingly) lamented the days when you had to search out an obscure music LP or cult film on videocassette and we were all, ah yes, remember when.
I recall buying this single as a UK import from some local record store and paying a dumb amount of money for it because, well, how else was it to come to me? Then I think something tragic happened to the disc concerning my younger sister and a beverage, but I may be off in my recollection.
Still! The other night—because I’ve been lately having some Edina Monsoon moments—I wanted to hear this version again and blammo, it was to be had at a keystroke. So, yes, I guess we can all mourn the days of hipper than thou-ness through art product obscurity, and the rewarded effort of record-bin foraging. We’ll just now take comfort in our Klout scores or something? I’m not so much bothered.