I answer my cellphone. The reception in my house isn't the best, so I go and stand near the window, where the reception is better. It's someone I haven't talked with for a couple years, so we chat awhile, catching up. As we talk, I begin to hear the hysterical cries of child. I'm thinking that a misbehaving child has been locked out of the house by its parents. This ostracizing from the group is a common form of punishment in Japan, and one that I loathe. Then I hear the child cry out "Mommy" in English. It at once hits me that the song issuing from the speakers behind me is Lou Reed's, "The Kids." For the album, the producer had recorded the sound of his son crying when he hadn't wanted to go to bed.
How wonderful are those moments when reality and imagination greet one another.
On the turntable: Lou Reed, "Berlin"
On the nighttable: Klaus Kinski, "Kinski Uncut"
No comments:
Post a Comment