On In Rainbows
[This post marks the start of a blogging experiment within this Project 52 series, as declared in post 32. Twenty posts on music. To be written within the duration of one record each. Strictly stream-of-consciousness, with no editing once posted. I would go back to correct misspellings, though. Did I spell that right, misspelling?]
I used to sing Bodysnatchers on my way to the lady who sells huge pan de sals in a makeshift stall next to the gate of the courthouse I used to work at.
Power breakfast, I’d call it, one giant pan de sal, double the size of my fist, with one peeled and crushed boiled egg as filling. Altanghap more like it. My one big meal of the day, to last me the whole bundy time. “I’m alive!”
I never saw it coming that I’d walk past that gate for good. The meals nourished me good, I guess, gave me just enough strength to go.
I never saw it coming that before that would happen, I would get to date a friend’s brother, and that on my way to him, I’d be singing “she looks back, you look back”.
I never saw it coming that I’d actually like a date song.
I never saw it coming that the guy who gave me this record would vanish without a trace. And in silence. Maybe he was taken away by bodysnatchers.
God bless him. I thank him.
In Rainbows is a record in transit, and for people in transit.
The beats to me are pulses, and the echoes are drones that are dreamy. It’s nice to dream when you’re trapped.
I remember, when I used to study in that little university within Intramuros, that one which bore the motto “truth and fortitude”, I used to pass this long underpass. A vandal wrote NICE DREAM on the wall of it.
And that’s from another record. The ailing one, The Bends.
In Rainbows is not in pain. How could it be?
It’s the hymn of a peon freed from a leash. It’s what she hears while she’s running. Just listen to how Jigsaw Falling Into Place races against its own heartbeat.
And then, rest, and a moment of reckoning, by the time Videotape’s heavy slo-mo footfalls are heard.
There is comfort in rainbows.