My upstairs neighbors seem to have a piano- or maybe an incredible sound system that perfectly mimics the sound of a piano. Whoever is tickling the ivories is supremely talented, the crisp notes float down on the summer breeze past my open windows, and bass notes reverberate through the cement walls of the old building. …
I guess that’s always something that’s been in the background, though I don’t think of it much. Music? Yeah, not literally, like background music in hallways and whatnot or muzak in all the elevators I ride in, though come to think of it I haven’t heard music in an elevator in a long time. When …
A busker we passed was playing a jolly tune on an old guitar. His style of playing had a beat, a rhythm that made it sound like he had a bass backing him up. It was some good stuff, folksy but in the best sort of way. It was an odd contrast to the gray …
The band struck up a tune I didn’t know, but was happy to hear it for the first time. I was just coming out of the bathroom and, disoriented by the dropping of the beat, I temporarily forgot what I was supposed to do. I remembered my mission was to piss and get another round, …
The bass line blasted in harmonic frequencies The spectral soundings Of immense glaciers of sound Bearing down upon me with slow, inexorable speed I, strapped into my headphones, could but brace Waiting for the inevitable hit Of sonic ecstasy Of the perfect resolution To the cacophony of dissident chords Into the Omega point of pure …
The vibration of sympathetic strings Disturbing oxygen atoms in the humid night Below, the cacophony of humanity Beats a tattoo for the soaring melodies – The raga of the metropolis Articulated with train horns Lovers spats And racing ambulances – On the gilded musical wings I soar Far above the airport approach pattern And the …
I watched a fire truck blow past in its cacophonous haste. I wondered where it was off to, someone or some place having a shit day no doubt. I remember once looking out over a grim industrial Chinese city wrapped in the dense orange nighttime pollution only possible in the depths of a winter on …
My buddy once sent me a song file with the sole description “If they ever open a disco in space, this should be its national anthem.” In addition to being the best description of a song ever written, it was the perfect frame for the song. At the time I was living in one of …
The radio was playing the weirdest shit. Some strange tunes that seem to repeat. I swear they only have 3 songs, albeit long ones, that keep playing on repeat. Everytime I hear the cycle repeat I look at the radio increasingly more perplexed. An hour later when she came home I relayed the story to …