It’s 1996 and I’m cursing my internet connection: I’m trying to download a leaked U2 song and so far it’s taken me seven hours. The song, I’ll later discover, isn’t one of U2’s best, and when it’s finally downloaded it’ll have cost me more in connection charges – back then, internet time was charged per-minute – than it would have cost me to buy Bono a house. It also sounds like it was recorded in a shed. But I’m listening
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