I have woken up with a loop.
A few bars here, a bit of vocal there.
This one isn’t bad – but even so – I can’t lose it. It won’t go.
It just stays, playing infinitum, ad finem; ad nauseam?
Did it wake me, or was it alway there – waiting for me to open my eyes, if not my ears. To turn up the volume and consume me until it goes. To eventually be replaced by something else. The whine of a child, no doubt.
So I walked down stairs. It looped. I kissed the head of a child – mine, obvs – as they watched TV. It played. I put the coffee on. It tried to drown out the sound of the pump.
Even as I type this, it is playing – looping, trying to expand to the whole song, but then stopping. Crashing. Returning back to the start of the loop.
I try to listen to the sounds around me. For something new. Something to beat it.
A guinea pig squeaks. The fridge hums. The coffee machine mechanically clicks to suggest it is now at the right temperature. Then, as if he had never gone away, Fonzi Thornton reminds me that he works for a living. It’s all he does.
Time to play the whole thing and hope that is the end of it.
There could be worse songs after all.