my memory of "bruises"...

Sometimes a song is not at all about the song itself but the memory it induces...
I found myself inundated by the first few notes of Chairlift's “Bruises” as it was pumped continuously & mercilessly out of the Apple store @ Fashion Mall in Las Vegas as I waited for my lovely bride to finish her Legal Services convention down the block @ Circus Circus.
By all rights, I should now run screaming from this song as it was the aural equivalent of Alex being re-conditioned, forced to watch a bit of the "ultra-violence" whilst being fed nausea-inducing drugs, but alas & alack, instead of being revulsed, I find myself undeniably & inexplicably attracted to the song & its oh-so-twee charms. It was one of the few high points of an otherwise dismal trip to Las Vegas, which I found to be the asshole of the armpit of our otherwise mostly beautiful country.
I danced with my girl outside that mall when she came to meet me & now I have a secret smile every time I hear it...