See, let me explain.

When I was in high school, my friend John quite accurately described my musical sensibilities as belonging to the genre of “poppy fun.” And, oh, they were, the more poppy the better, the more ironically melancholy the fun the better. Squeeze. Crowded House. XTC. The Sundays. 10,000 Maniacs. REM when I needed some edge. That’s right. Read that again if you must. REM. When I needed edge.

But mostly, poppy fun.

Which is why I must become so publically rapturous about Lucinda. She’s different than the poppy fun of my past, a signpost of the folksy, alt-ish, Rufus-loving, Shelby-Lynne-appreciating direction I’m going in because that’s what you’re supposed to start listening to in your late 20s. Can I be forgiven for falling in line?

But still, my heart belongs to poppy fun.

Which is why I like the new Fountains of Wayne CD so much it makes me physically dizzy to think about.

You may now commence no longer being my friend.

Quote of the day, from that selfsame Foutains of Wayne album: “Sometimes I wonder where you are/Probably in LA/That seems to be where everybody else ends up these days.”

Poppy fun stuff, eh, Pamie?