On finally comprehending the allure of Annie Clark

While I have been repeatedly ensnared by “Chloe in the Afternoon” (the tenderest of hotel rendezvous anthems) and “Your Lips Are Red” (“Your lips are red / My face is red from reading your red lips”), it was not until the fitful static of April that I really began to find Annie Clark sexy.

As everyone’s world became plasticine — I recall those final days working in DUMBO…