I remember when I broke up with my boyfriend years ago he sent me Jamiroquai’s Space Cowboy video: I can remember it til this day. I was sitting in front of the television on the floor about a foot away from my futon because I lived in a room the size of a broom closet with a Puerto Rican family. It was sad enough–I don’t know what part, because I remember being jarred out of my tears with utter confusion that my ex boyfriend even listened to Jamiroquai, and that he would equate Space Cowboy with his grief and a last ditch attempt to get his girlfriend back. I cried even harder as the weird racially ambiguous guy on my screen with a top hat danced even weirder, to a weird beat that didn’t match–but I don’t know about what part. That maybe it was good that I broke up with him, because I never knew who he was. I look at Jamiroquai very differently now.