the big chill — vicariously got my hands on the OST, right around the time CD players were first launched here. Hadn't seen the film, at the time. I was sharing the servant's quarters on the ground floor of a mansion, slap bang in Chatswood, with a law student, a nurse, and a fledgling merchant banker, just a kid, who, immediately upon moving in, rented a sound system and splurged on a few CDs.
The big chill OST was one,
dancing with strangers was another — can't recall the other one tonight. It'll come back to me. I went off immediately and purloined
dream sequence
The movie tonight has all these memories flooding back. Music plays a huge role. Bit of a distraction, really

Ladles of nostalgia. It wasn't much chop, that rented CD player, but it was all we had. And the music was crisp and clean — oddly so, and not in a
bad way. I listened to those discs over and over. They lock me into this chapter. Took me a while to find my way into the new technology, elsewhere, a year or so down the track. I got a much better stereo system, never looked back, still have it: Old sansui receiver, yamaha CD player, quadral speakers. Nice and tidy. Did the job.
The boy banker moved on and, on his way out the door, while I was elsewhere, the dear soul stole a little, bespoke wooden box, made by a good friend of mine, replete with all my nice pens, compasses, protractors, and various other treasures and knickknacks. Lovely lad. Sorry to see him go, I was.
Still, I'm chill. Water under the bridge. The triumph is to not be like them.