The best song that I'll never hear again

At the turn of the century, I used to post a lot of my little songs on a site called mp3.com . I'm pretty sure that the current mp3.com is the same as the old mp3.com, except my log-in doesn't work anymore. I guess that's what seven years of inactivity will get you.

mp3.com (should I have capitalized that m?) was to 1999 what Myspace Music is to Nowadays, albeit not so IN YOUR FACE. Struggling bands would set up their page, add some mp3s and bio information, then hope that someone would stumble upon their page. There were no bulletins. No friend requests. You'd tell the system what your sound was reminiscent of, and then users would search on their favorite artists to find new bands. Perhaps I was just more open to the idea back then, but I feel like I like I heard a lot better stuff than I do currently on Myspace, etc. There was still plenty of crap, that's for sure, but there were quite a few gems.

For those of you who knew my 1999 self, or my 2007 self for that matter, it wouldn't take Nostradamus to figure out what my search criteria would have been when looking for new music. And the results were always much less daunting then they are on myspace. As opposed to being directed to Page 1 of 30, I'd be greeted with 25 or 30 artists max...an amount that I could realistically navigate entirely through and really decide if any of them were worth a damn.

As luck would have it, within the first few results was always an act called Well, from somewhere in Europe. My memory eludes me on that much. It was just one guy and he only had one song, but it was the most incredible song I've ever heard. Drum machine...the guitars sounded like they were plugged right into the 1/8" microphone jack on this computer...and the vocals were plentifully recorded. The song was called "GooseD" and the chorus went like this...

Gooseberry soda, I drink it without a straw
There's a black snake in the quarry, a dangerous undertow

And although it was absolute pop, every time he sang about that black snake, I'd quiver in fear. Then came an overdriven Spontaneous Gyrations era Gittingsesque extended guitar solo. Pure magic.

Now for the horrific part of the story. I don't have this song anymore and I don't anticipate it eventually showing up on a Time/Life boxset. Whereas I've spent the last years streamlining my personal belongings, I've always been very thorough about saving and backing up all of my computer files. Everything except for this mp3.

I mean, its not as dire as it sounds. I'm certain that I must have a copy of it somewhere. Whether its on a CD-R spindled up in DGW's basement. Or on the computer that I sold Orangey a few years back. But I can't help but be frightened of that small percentage chance that I'll never hear it again. There's not much hope that I'm going to recall Well's Angelfire web address...and even if I did, what's the likelihood that Angelfire has preserved the page?

I'm already planning for the worst case scenario of having a hypnotist pull every recollection of this song from my brain, so that I can record and recreate it on my own. For God's sake, I can't remember how the verse went and its wrecking me.

Please advise.