And there's where the first breathy laugh escapes him, a sort of self-deprecating thing that he stalls on by passing a hand over his mouth. He cards his hair back and, settling into something akin to resignation, asks, "Before or after?"

Before he became the soldier, or after he woke up? He's two different people, it feels like. Two different personalities. He had his preferences when all he knew was the forties, and before he got his mind completely back he had several months to develop a new taste for it. Modern music, the stuff they play on radios and in stores, on public transportation, on television.

Two whole different worlds feels like he ought to get two whole different songs.