Anything you want.
Wrote this a while ago for another site and, ever the recycler, am now posting it (slightly edited) here.
Walking down the street the other day, plugged into my ipod, I was listening to this trippy remix of MIA’s “10 Dollar” that I downloaded from somewhere at some point over the summer (sorry, can’t remember where, and hence can’t provide a link), and I was reminded of a time when a friend of mine, who had recently become one of the ipod-sporting masses himself, remarked that that little device had revolutionized the way he listened to music. “Suddenly,” he said, “everything has its own soundtrack.”
So as I walked down that particular UWS street that day, MIA’s strangely appealing nasal whine filling my ears, I definitely had one of those life-soundtrack moments. There was this little girl walking along on the sidewalk on the other side of the street, essentially keeping pace with me, and screaming/screeching/shrieking the whole time. And the weird thing was her shrieks fit perfectly with the song I was listening to, as if they were actually part of the mp3, punctuating the lyrics, enhancing the song, and elevating it to something else entirely. When it first started, I actually found myself wondering if the shrieks were a part of the remix that I just had never noticed before.
I want to hear it again, but clearly it’s one of those NYC street moments that can never be repeated. Fleeting. Impossible to reclaim. And it’s especially surprising that I liked it, given that under any other set of circumstances the shrieking of a small child would have done nothing but piss me off. But coupled with the MIA remix, it just worked.
So I strolled along, lost in that sonic landscape wondering to myself, “Hmm, what can I get for ten dolla?” And while I couldn't say that I could have gotten anything I wanted, I realized that I could, in fact, get my dry cleaning.
So with that realization, I turned the corner and headed for the cleaners, leaving behind my little shrieking companion and the sound of our shared creation, forever.
Walking down the street the other day, plugged into my ipod, I was listening to this trippy remix of MIA’s “10 Dollar” that I downloaded from somewhere at some point over the summer (sorry, can’t remember where, and hence can’t provide a link), and I was reminded of a time when a friend of mine, who had recently become one of the ipod-sporting masses himself, remarked that that little device had revolutionized the way he listened to music. “Suddenly,” he said, “everything has its own soundtrack.”
So as I walked down that particular UWS street that day, MIA’s strangely appealing nasal whine filling my ears, I definitely had one of those life-soundtrack moments. There was this little girl walking along on the sidewalk on the other side of the street, essentially keeping pace with me, and screaming/screeching/shrieking the whole time. And the weird thing was her shrieks fit perfectly with the song I was listening to, as if they were actually part of the mp3, punctuating the lyrics, enhancing the song, and elevating it to something else entirely. When it first started, I actually found myself wondering if the shrieks were a part of the remix that I just had never noticed before.
I want to hear it again, but clearly it’s one of those NYC street moments that can never be repeated. Fleeting. Impossible to reclaim. And it’s especially surprising that I liked it, given that under any other set of circumstances the shrieking of a small child would have done nothing but piss me off. But coupled with the MIA remix, it just worked.
So I strolled along, lost in that sonic landscape wondering to myself, “Hmm, what can I get for ten dolla?” And while I couldn't say that I could have gotten anything I wanted, I realized that I could, in fact, get my dry cleaning.
So with that realization, I turned the corner and headed for the cleaners, leaving behind my little shrieking companion and the sound of our shared creation, forever.
posted by P/O at 10/05/2005 09:36:00 AM
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