“Grenadine and Coke.“

“Love the Sound.”

Renee shakes her head. “I know it had the big underground single, but it’s inconsistent. The skits alone–”

“Love the Sound,” Haru insists. “Last album before the money and the fake Phil Spector shit, wall-of-sound compressed layered six hundred trumpets–”

“All but two of which were MIDI.”

“Exactly!”

Renee grins. “Someday an indie fan is going to choose quality over authenticity, and a million voices will cry out and be silenced.”

“Whatever,” says Haru, “want nexts on the dartboard?”

“I’m a darts nihilist.”

“So no?”

“So,” she stands, “I’m going to annihilate you.”