I was feeling like a pickled chinchilla the afternoon I first became utterly bobo besotted with, over the moon for, Duane Reade. Truly I had only wanted to stick my head into a pot of Noxzema when—shazam!—they played Tracey Ullman's "They Don't Know" at the checkout counter. When that sweet, cherished song was backed up with the velvet cream of "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)," I practically lost my gordita contemplating the dottiness of this revelation: Despite being a chain of 212 drug stores across New York City, Duane Reade is also—Duane Reade, just imagine!—a sporadically splendid venue to hear free music. Particularly if you are indifferent to throwing devil's signs amid Scooby-Doo Chia Pets and... More >>>