The only thing that makes sense when you wake up on a rainy, gloom-doom Sunday in April is to sit on your bedroom floor, rifling through your suitcase full of cassettes and find that one mix tape an old lover made for you when you were a much younger version of the person you see in the mirror across the room right now. That is, until you realize you forgot to check the mail yesterday and find that skinny cardboard box that can only mean one thing: new records! That’s the beauty of snail mail, it takes longer than all this instant bullshit we’ve become so accustomed to, and sometimes you find yourself forgetting you were even expecting anything. A rainy Sunday surprise, worthy of anxiously slicing open the tape attached to the cardboard and sliding out those pretty little gems that you just know will speak to your heart. Ripping off the cellophane encasing it, I place the red vinyl on the turntable and drop that needle right on it. The moment I see there’s a song entitled “Chuck Berry Holiday” coming up, I know it might be the only one for me. Those keyboards come in and I can feel it in my bones: this song is going to be my anthem for the next week. That’s just me, spinning the same b-side of the same record for months on end, rotating the same three cassettes in my car for weeks at a time, and having dance parties by myself to the same 7 inches forever. It’s hell for anyone who lives with me or hangs out with me for longer than a split second, but it’s salvation for me. The point of this particular amphetamine-induced foray into the inner workings of my musical obsessions is just to say Nobunny’s “Love Visions” 12 inch might bring you similar salvation, or at least pass the time on a rainy Sunday. Either way, I hear their live show isn’t something to miss. So I don’t plan on it.