The Beach Boys - "God Only Knows" I’m a sucker. Sitting on the curb in front of a record shop. Pet Sounds seeping out of the outwardly prominent speakers just at the soffit, in all it's vintage nostalgic glory. This is the most commercially-bent indie record shop in the industry, now inhabited by a Cold Stone Creamery, or a Baskin Robbins. In any case, now a polar opposite in the grand scheme. Sweet products, but offensive. Like some infuriated toddler, denied a treat or a toy. Screaming while maturity, the tortured mother of adulthood, looks on in dismay. Its closing time, the night is deep and boiling over with seasonal appeal, illuminated partially by the fluorescent lights within. Its companion; the soft red glow of
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