I love a good song

When a song starts, and I get sucked in from the first beat. It feels like I’m absorbing the notes and, at the same time, being immersed in the perfectly organised blend between the singer and the instrumentals.

I write about music because it’s the first thing I’d ever felt connected to. It’s my solace, an embrace when I’m sad, a light-up when I need hope, a jolt of energy when I’m stuck with chores.

These days, I find myself more connected to the beats than the vocals; it’s like the string on the guitar or the piece from the piano creates a black hole that pulls me in.

Growing up, I found myself longing more for the alone time with the music in my ears. It’s how my emotions come alive with the songs that resonate with me.

In recent years, I’m never more alive than with an Afro beat rhythm, “alte”. The artist could be mumbling something random, and I wouldn’t pay much attention to it (I usually notice); the beat is magical.

When I close my eyes, I feel the melody play a psychedelic ballad in my head as I’m teleported into the writer’s world, and when my emotions peak, the tears come flowing down, sometimes before I realise it.

Whenever I find such a song with such an ability, I begin to go back to relive the experience. Over and over again like a fiend, it’s addictive properties are intertwined with my emotions and they both act with free will.

The best ones are able to last through hundreds of replays before I need a new dealer. The great ones don’t lose potency, and when I go back needing a dose, it delivers right off the jump. I rely on time and the transience of memory to feel the pump from the good ones again.

This text was born out of a new good one, spreading my net wide is how I catch more proverbial fishes. It’s also how I ensure not to lose supply, especially when I need them.

I hope you find comfort in the company of a good song today!

Jay Jay