If you're imagining yourself as a high class socialite in the mid to late 80s at 11:30 PM in SoHo wondering where you're going to score your next bump of coke as Chadwick talks nonstop about some William F. Buckley article and your girlfriend/boyfriend is dancing to the new Whitney Houston album drunk off their ass after a lude or two and with no desire to think about the future, then you're listening to the right album.
