Probably one of those things I shouldn’t admit publically…

Living in a culture of music sampling does very strange things to your head. I cannot, for example, help but get disappointed when the opening strains of Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man *aren’t*, in fact, going to lead into Cyprus Hill’s Hits from the Bong. It used to drive me absolutely crazy the year Pulp Fiction came out and the Springfield song made a comeback.

That’s nothing compared to today’s realisation, which is liable to get me lynched: The baseline for Under Pressure totally belongs to Ice, Ice, Baby in my head. Even when I’ve just spent twenty minutes listening to David Bowie beforehand and I know it’s coming, I just sit there waiting for the white-boy rap to start…

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