Don’t Let Me Near Your Pillows

[Another in my “Oldies But Baddies” line. Please change all “her’s” into “my ex’s.” Everything else holds true though.]

It was one of the first nights I had spent over her house. Someone had left itunes blaring as we (read: I) passed out. I woke up in a foreign apartment to Miles Davis’ echo-y, screeching trumpet.

It sounded familiar. Not too familiar though, but something I definitely recognized/had heard before.

Bitches Brew. Davis’ much reviled fusion album. Too rock for jazz aficionados, and too jazz for rock fans (i.e. meatheads). Too directionless for anyone else left over between the two!

I’ve found someone who enjoys funk and atonality as much as I do!

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