Joey of Lateral Line Media unwittingly uncovered some old scars with this post. No way he could possibly know that back in the day, fresh out of college, the only apartment my buddies and I could afford in NYC Metro was a railroad sitting atop an Irish bar in Hoboken. No way he could know that said Irish bar never attracted more than four patrons on any given night, but the drunken Irish owner insisted on cranking the same mix tape at full volume until closing. And that the mix tape, on a perma-loop, included the songs “Rosanna” and “Rains in Africa” among other torturous acts. I had to drink heavily just to get through it. I am haunted by Toto.