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« Weekend Recap | Main | How Children Learn »
It has been awhile since I last listened to Stiff Little Fingers. Can it be that I haven't really listened to them since I lived in Chicago?
They remind me of my first apartment on Clifton Street, shared with 3-5 other people, the numbers varying according to who among our friends happened to be in need of a place to crash.
And it's not just that I listened to them a lot back than, although I did. It's also the quality of the music. The crisp guitars like the icy air that always managed to penetrate our thin walls, and the vocals, tinny as the neighbors who argued in the apartment underneath ours, muffled as attempts at conversation with chattering teeth bundled in thick scarves iced over from breath condensation.
This is why it makes me shiver to listen to Stiff Little fingers this morning. This is why it warms me.
(Sample Track: Wasted Life)
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