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Baby, I Can’t Wait

The last Urban Outfitters catalog that found its way into my mail pile spazzed me out by the rampant showcasing of leggings and stirrup pants. I eventually calmed down, the dismay faded from memory. Until last night when I got home after eating at Sigiri, a newish Sri Lankan restaurant in the East Village (black curry and hoppers rule) and observed that a new Urban Outfitters catalog was waiting for me in the foyer. Ok, lately I've been super tired and lazy at night, so I could be mistaken, but I swear one of the photos had a girl holding a Nu Shooz record. Not "Poolside," but possibly a 12" single because the art looks very much the same (but to be fair, lots of art from that era resembles each other). I can't be bothered to find my old entry (which could soon be rectified–look for a totally revamped website in the next few weeks) but I know that I've mentioned this Portland one-hit-wonder more than once, if only because it tidily sums up all that I loathe about recycled pop culture. When the kids start turning to a forgotten-for-a-reason NW band for fun and inspiration, you know the world is in big trouble. I didn't actually bother to look up album art last night when I had the catalog near me (I don't currently) because I was tired and have ADD, but don't think I'll forget. This will be rectified this evening, believe, me.

Ok, record geeks. I found the offending Urban Outfitters catalog online, but the image is tiny so you have to drag the "close up" magnifying square over the 12" in the foreground. The more I dwell on this, the more I doubt that it's Nu Shooz, after all. So then, what record is it?

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