In the spirit of moving on, I looked up and streamed the album that gave us Everybody: Songs from the Big Chair. Over the next few days of my respiratory virus and associated insomnia, I became intimately familiar with it.
The Chainsmokers weren’t a national punchline yet. They’d made a name for themselves with their novelty song Selfie before everyone realised that they were actually very, very serious about their music.
I know I’m uncomfortable but can’t feel it. Jokes. Laughter. Blood pressure tests.
The euphoria of midnight at a festival is unique in its camaraderie.
As a Bowie aficionado Jack couldn’t hold a candle to Dennis, but this track burns deep at the best of times, and obliterates him in the worst. Such as now.
Eventually though the time will come for you to get thirsty on a random night, head toward the fridge, reach for the orange juice bottle and get hit by an epiphany.