Musically, that is. Growing up, I was obsessed with music and spent all my spare cash in record shops. But in my life, as in most people’s, that obsession gets eased out by work, mortgages, children and, well, life. So almost unconsciously, we tend to switch off the sharp antenna that always picked up new music. Though it seems mine isn’t quite dead yet. A few weeks ago, it picked this up. Its haunting brilliance just stopped me in my tracks. And when Christina’s fragile, poignant vocals raised every hair on the back of my neck, I realised that I can still be moved by new music and there’s still life in the old antenna yet.
Apparently, I’m still alive.

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