8.1.22 Surely it can't be that good? Can it? Really?


(Shorter version today. Two reasons: 1. It's the weekend and I don't work those any longer. And I'm exceptionally happy about the fact.  2. Had quite a long drive today - J's mate's mate's cat had had kittens and there was one that was perfect for us so we went and got her. She's spent the last two hours hiding in her bed, unsure about her new surroundings, unsure about who the new people are and probably wondering what happened to her mum. She's 10 weeks old. About ten minutes ago she finally emerged for a look round. So, we're spending the evening entertaining our cat. Why would I want to write when I can be doing that?) 

 It was whispered for years. In the corners of the music press, in the conversation that you'd have with people who 'knew their stuff', whose opinion you respected:

There was this record. This record that was the most valuable piece of vinyl on the planet. This song that was better than most things you'd ever heard, this song that was the most infectious piece of should you could ever come across, this record that just exuded joy. This record that nobody, literally *nobody* could dislike. 

But there was only one copy in existence. So you were never going to hear it. Which was a shame because you'd love it. 

But possibly a good thing, as nothing - literally *nothing* could ever stand up that kind of hype, *nothing* that could ever live up to the anticipation that all this conversation had created.

And then, one day, somebody - and nobody was ever sure who - licensed it for a compilation. 

It was suddenly there. This song that everybody had talked about. 

And we could judge for ourselves.

And it was everything that everyone had said. And possibly more.



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