Closing Time” runs exactly four minutes and 34 seconds, but it encapsulates an infinite amount of experiences that are all roughly the same. It’s the sound of being bored in the backseat of a friend’s car while on lunch break in high school; it looks like the too-tight pair of jean shorts that inexplicably became a wardrobe staple for a whole summer between sophomore and junior year in college; it smells like the first crappy apartment you ever had. Sometimes it takes a pop song by a band we’ve forgotten to show us how remarkably unremarkable our personal relationships with pop culture can be; then a movie or TV show comes along many years later and underlines it.