Anna Minard, our city hall reporter, claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we're forcing her to listen to all the records that music nerds consider important.

The beginning of Rid of Me sounds like a soundtrack to a montage or the beginning of a road trip. There's a certain familiar weight and rhythm to the guitar that says, C'mon, we're about to go somewhere. Halfway through track one, "Rid of Me," it blows up, opens wide, and gets pretty hard. Instead of inviting, it sounds pleading, angry. The end of the song sounds like it required PJ Harvey to get a lifetime supply of cough drops.

Then the second track starts again with a similar, recognizably calm intro, like the beginning of a movie scene where the protagonist walks into a nightclub and looks around. Maybe I've been binge-watching too much Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the weekends, but PJ Harvey sounds perfect for the Bronze, the dark 1990s nightclub where no one in Sunnydale ever gets tired of going, even though vampires and demons go there to snack on humans like it's a goddamn buffet.

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