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<strong>High</strong> <strong>Fidelity</strong><br />
http://www.fictionbook.ru/author/hornby_nick/high_fidelity/hornby_high_fidelity.html<br />
Page 107 of 112<br />
6/20/2006<br />
“Is there a difference”<br />
“OF COURSE … ” Too shrill. I pretend I’ve got something in my throat, clear it, and start again.<br />
“Well, yeah, a bit. There’s my top five dance records of all time, and then there’s my top five records of<br />
all time. See, one of my favorite-ever records is ‘Sin City’ by the Flying Burrito Brothers, but I wouldn’t<br />
play that at the club. It’s a country-rock ballad. Everyone would go home.”<br />
“Never mind. Any five. So four more.”<br />
“What d’you mean, four more”<br />
“Well, if one of them is this ‘Sin City’ thing, that leaves four more.”<br />
“NO!” This time I make no attempt to disguise the panic. “I didn’t say it was in my top five! I just said<br />
it was one of my favorites! It might turn out to be number six or seven!”<br />
I’m making a bit of a fool of myself, but I can’t help it: this is too important, and I’ve waited for it too<br />
long. But where have they gone, all these records I’ve had in my head for years, just in case Roy<br />
Plomley or Michael Parkinson or Sue Lawley or whoever used to do My Top Twelve on Radio One<br />
contacted me and asked me in as a late and admittedly unknown replacement for someone famous For<br />
some reason I can think of hardly any record at all apart from ‘Respect,’ and that’s definitely not my<br />
favorite Aretha song.<br />
“Can I go home and work it out and let you know In a week or so”<br />
“Look, if you can’t think of anything, it doesn’t matter. I’ll do one. My five favorites from the old<br />
Groucho Club or something.”<br />
She’ll do one! She’ll rob me of my one and only chance to make a list for publication in a magazine! I<br />
don’t think so!<br />
“Oh, I’m sure I can manage something.”<br />
‘A Horse with No Name.’ ‘Beep Beep.’ ‘Ma Baker.’ ‘My Boomerang Won’t Come Back.’ My head is<br />
suddenly flooded with the titles of terrible records, and I’m almost hyperventilating.<br />
“OK, put ‘Sin City’ down.” There must be one other good record in the entire history of pop.<br />
“ ‘Baby Let’s Play House’!”<br />
“Who’s that by”<br />
“Elvis Presley.”<br />
“Oh. Of course.”<br />
“And … ” Aretha. Think Aretha.<br />
“ ‘Think’ by Aretha. Franklin.”<br />
Boring, but it’ll do. Three down. Two left. Come on, Rob.<br />
“ ‘Louie, Louie’ by the Kingsmen. ‘Little Red Corvette’ by Prince.”<br />
“Fine. That’s great.”<br />
“Is that it”<br />
“Well, I wouldn’t mind a quick chat, if you’ve got time.”<br />
“Sure. But is that it for the list”<br />
“That’s five. Do you want to change anything”<br />
“Did I say ‘Stir It Up’ Bob Marley”<br />
“No.”<br />
“I’d better have that in.”<br />
“What do you want to leave out”<br />
“Prince.”<br />
“No problem.”<br />
“And I’ll have ‘Angel’ instead of ‘Think.’ ”<br />
“Right.” She looks at her watch. “I’d better ask you a couple of questions before I get back. Why did<br />
you want to start it up again”<br />
“It was a friend’s idea really.” A friend. Pathetic. “She organized it without telling me, as a sort of<br />
birthday present. I’d better have a James Brown in there, too, I think. ‘Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag.’<br />
Instead of the Elvis.”<br />
I watch her carefully while she does the necessary crossing out and writing in.