Today, whilst simultaneously walking the dog and ploughing through the ever-increasing number of mp3s I needlessly download daily, I came across a song that was perfectly apposite for the view I was experiencing, and vice versa. A.A. Bondy’s ‘There’s A Reason’ came to me through the medium of the powerfully tasteful James, writer of Pop Headwound, and immediately struck me as the kind of song I had to explain through the use of a visual metaphor.
That hastily taken cameraphone shot above is the best I could do on short notice.
You see, ‘There’s A Reason’ is as functional a track as the weather, a gently plodding Americana-inflected folk track – unembellished, almost invisible. That is, unless you listen closely. Those shards of wonderful sunlight against dark clouds and green fields are as thrilling to me as hearing lines like ‘the bar room is filled with the joy of making old friends‘, perfect moments of clarity set against what could otherwise be barely noticeable. Mini-moments of transcendence like that are what make some music better than the rest, and sometimes it takes something other than your ears to work that out.