Some days, you just don’t have a song in your head. Some days, you’re busy scheming and (Photo)shopping and enjoying the sounds of a baseball game or two on your TV, and music doesn’t factor into the equation.
But there’s always a baseline. Or, in this case, a bass line.
Ten years now. For ten years, I’ve noticed that, in still moments, those moments when there’s nothing to do but tap your toes or rap a pen against a table, no matter what rhythm I start with, it inevitably reverts to that of the bass line from Interpol’s Evil.
I can’t explain this. I rarely listen to the song any more, and I’m not the kind of person to think there’s some sort of omen in the fact that a song with that title resides within my subconscious, waiting for any opportunity to manifest.
Sometimes, there’s a lesson to be found, a grand insight to receive. Sometimes, things just are.