Call me a vinyl junkie if you will, but I'm one of those guys who files his memories with his music. I could tell you what record I played over and over when my first girlfriend went off to college and stopped answering my letters ("Love Will Tear Us Apart Again," Joy Division, just released as a funereal gray import 7-inch single). Or what I was listening to when the singer in my college art-punk band started getting between me and my two-year flame ("Triad," Jefferson Airplane, trite but true).

Perhaps this is why Nick Hornby's novel "High Fidelity," about a thirtysomething record store owner named Rob who obsesses over his mix tapes as much as his breakups, struck such a chord with me. Reading that novel's depiction of intertwined musical and romantic addiction was a mix of delight at recognition, and embarrassment at being nailed so accurately.

The filmed version, directed by Stephen Frears and starring the always excellent John Cusack, takes the book's most telling line and moves it right up front: "Which came first, the music or the misery?" asks Rob, talking straight to the viewer. "Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"