The intro remains the same, because I’m lazy.
—
Music does something to me, and I’ve never been able to explain exactly why. It just happens. My molecules are somehow rearranged when I walk into a supermarket and hear a song on the sound system.
I stop dead and forget the shopping list. My wife becomes understandably exasperated. I can’t not listen. In similar fashion, I can’t ignore words wherever I see them, even when they’re on billboards as we’re speeding down the interstate.
It would be a startling change of pace for my existence to experience blank sonic space and be indifferent, except I can’t so much as imagine such an existence.
My earliest childhood memories have melodic accompaniments. When very young, I’d go to sleep to the cracklings of an ancient AM radio, and perhaps that’s why absolutely nothing about being five years old remains intact in my memory except for hearing “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” and “California Dreamin’” when both were smash hits.
The grooves on a LP collection of ......
Read more
