Now I have a headache.
I never really noticed just how … shrill Kate Bush is. I like some of her stuff. “Running Up That Hill,” of course, and most of The Red Shoes. But I’m sitting here at work listening to the greatest hits album, and far too often she sounds like someone stuck her head in a helium balloon and started poking her with sticks.
The album will be deleted from my MP3 player shortly, and the “master copy” — the honest-to-god CD — will be at the used CD store this weekend.
