He was sixteen again. He was twenty-three. He was thirty. He was all of them at once.
The man in the warehouse had stopped asking questions ten years ago. He just stamped the inventory sheets and nodded. But today, he paused, squinting at the shipping manifest. corey hart albums
That was the first layer of the box. The raw ache of leaving. He was sixteen again
This one was the pivot. The forgotten masterpiece. By 1988, the world had moved on to hair metal and the first stirrings of grunge. Corey Hart should have been a footnote. Instead, he made his strangest, most honest record. he made his strangest