I just heard this as I was sitting in flu-misery in the Walgreens parking lot hoping this cocktail of pills and sprays and lozenges will drag me back amongst the living, and like every time I hear this song, I had to stop everything and listen. Blondie's take on The Nerves' minor new wave hit is the best thing ever. Debbie Harry's icy strut run through all that echo, the guitar and keyboards injecting the slightest bit of danger. She is positively writhing, I can't control myself, wants to jump right through the lines and fuck the hell out of me, er, the person on the other end of the line. Who would not pick up he phone if 1978 Debbie Harry was calling? Hell, 2008 Debbie Harry?
Debbie Harry is/was everyone's dream girl. I remember flipping through a photo book at the Waldenbooks at the mall when I was 12, having somehow realized that there were lots of naked women in photography books, and there was a picture of Debbie Harry, sprawled in front of a black car, lifting her sweater to expose one breast, and I could hear and audible clunk in my brain. I don't think I've yet recovered from that.