Never before I had

Good morning. I always drink on a Friday night, whether alone or with a friend or two, though most of the time it's alone, whether at home or outside, though most of the time it's at home.

The act is like any other weekend-unwinding, mine with an emphasis on the minor celebration of not having to wake up at 4AM the following day. Because despite my part-timer status, I choose to take the early-early morning shift.

Fridays are also graced with music releases, so my routine would include checking out new tracks, whether from artists I like or those whom I haven't heard before.

Last night I listened to Cassius's "Dreems". My listening experience agitated by the news of Philippe "Zdar" Cerboneschi's death the night before. It came to my attention via 2manydjs's tribute on social media. Their famed vinyl wall filled with records in which Zdar has worked his magic.



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From this wall I also learned that he had a hand in Phoenix's "United", and the band even credited him for saving their debut album. If you ask me which song I love dancing to the most, it has to be Too Young. No idea why. All I know is there's a sweetly honest, unpolished quality to it that is difficult to ignore.

Dancing in parties, concerts or festivals is often associated with joy and freedom. These days I'm learning that it can also be an expression of sadness. Or that it's never really just one emotion we're feeling at a certain moment. Regardless, it's okay to be in public, sad.

In the privacy of my room I played "Dreems". When the title track came, I lost it, and also found myself lifted by the poignant refrain — You make me want to dream. How can so much melancholy exist in an upbeat tune? Never before I had someone like you right by my side. Simple prose has never sounded so heartbreaking.

I thought it was the alcohol kicking in. But I'm completely sober now and as I type this, Dreems is still playing on repeat. I'm still bleeding.

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