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High fidelity novel book buy6/21/2023 ![]() ![]() The Top Five riffing serves Rob-and the novel-well. “High Fidelity,” like any good pop song, is a voice piece: confessional, deceptively simple, haunting and, well, a bit pat. These three men have long since hammered it out that “what really matters is what you like, not what you are like.” Customers who request such sappy songs as “I Just Called to Say I Love You,” are routinely driven out of the store. Top Five side-one, track-one songs of all time. Rob has followed his teenage bliss to a failing used record store called Championship Vinyl on a quiet London street where, during the long slow days of waiting for someone to buy the mono copy of “Blonde on Blonde,” Rob and his two music-mad, maladjusted thirtysomething employees, Dick and Barry, bicker and compose Top Five lists of every conceivable preference. ![]() ![]() If you fault Rob for his taste in music, you’re not the only one to judge a person for his/her record collection. Can pop music sustain a 35-year-old man through one more heartbreak? Ask Rob Fleming, the tell-all narrator of Nick Hornby’s second novel, “High Fidelity,” a book as plaintive, catchy, affecting and rollicking good fun as the best pop songs-which, according to Rob, are “Let’s Get It On,” by Marvin Gaye “The House That Jack Built,” by Aretha Franklin “Back in the U.S.A.,” by Chuck Berry “White Man in the Hammersmith Palais,” by the Clash and “Tired of Being Alone,” by Al Green. ![]()
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