Designing to write a bit on the theme of music—pop music, really but we shall see, becomes a bit challenging in a muted landscape. Of course, the internet has propagated and shaped the language of music significantly, until or unless one runs up against a copyright patrol and the recordings are available at one’s home of record or there’s no reciprocal agreement between clearing-houses. That’s a bit frustrating and I wouldn’t what to try to base a composition on a leitmotif that would be eventually scavenged altogether by the copyholders.
So I was looking for stories to share without the proper instrumentation for accompaniment. One recurring episode that comes to mind—in fact, whenever I wake up—is the phenomenon of starting the day, like some sleep-grit in one’s eyes and dreamy residue, with the cobwebs of some highly-random and usually brash and grating song in my head. There’s a German term,
Ohrwurm (ear-worm) for having a song stuck in one’s head that’s hard to shake. Usually I refrain from belting out into song but the lyrics trudge through my mind as I brew the coffee and brush my teeth and don’t fade for quite some time. It’s happened since adolescence and I used to be afraid that I was channeling a radio station, that I had some kind of receiver for this expansive repertoire, but it’s persisted almost every morning and on both sides of the Atlantic. I don’t understand, weird but no original nor exceedingly rare compositions and yet nothing I have heard recently neither, and I hesitate to commit the words to any of these tunes to paper for fear that they might be contagious and infect someone else’s waking up ritual.
