he came on a summer’s day

It’s going to be a good night tonight; I just know it.

How do I know it? Because when I arrived home from work, this song was playing on the boombox in the kitchen:

Looking Glass – Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) (from a 1972 single, collected on Golden Classics, 1996)

…and there are few omens more auspicious than the mellow sounds of classic Jersey Shore soul-slash-pop.

Am I jeopardizing my cache of punk rock points by admitting my total love for this song? Perhaps, but I could care less. I don’t feel the need to display my hepcat credentials on my sleeve, accusing other folks’ of having bad taste in music or liking “overrated” bands while offering their own equally trite and predictable lists of “edgy” songs and performers.

Fuck being contrary for the sake of hipness. I follow my heart when it comes to music, and for tonight, at least, my life, my lover, my lady is the sea.

Do-do-de-do-do.

(Edit: I thought it would be wise to point out that the above rant does not apply to any of my wonderful music blogging peers, but was a reaction to something I read elsewhere on the internet.)