Song of the day – 513: Chromatics
I’ve written about Chromatics before. Obliquely.
Then comes a recommendation from one of my must trusted Facebook sources, Cindy Stern. I ain’t going to resist a recommendation like that. Maybe I once figured it was too obvious to feature the clinical, yet heartbeat warm, cool of Italians Do It Better in this series. Maybe I never quite got over being removed from the Bob Stanley Christmas card list after I ‘reviewed’ a St Etienne album without actually… hem… listening to it. (I still maintain that listening to the music can be the least part of crafting dialogue around it although I cannot deny it makes the writer’s job easier. I am well aware that no matter how many times a mediocre writer, a mediocre listener hears a piece of music, they will still fail to offer any illumination.)
This song is equal parts (lazy writer shorthand for anything but, incidentally) Giorgio Moroder, musique concrète, late night simulators allowed to run their natural course, and that intangible touch of melancholy dulled by too many years of living. It lingers where many would wrongly choose to leave. Isaac (age 7) was asking the other day if I could define grace. Grace, hmm? It’s a tricky one, not least cos those religious bigots hijacked it centuries ago to use as a bastard weapon to use round your bastard heads. It’s way easier to define in tangibles.
Audrey Hepburn. Chromatics. A certain kind of bubble bath.
And wait… should that be late night stimulators?
Chromatics. The 2010 definition of late night chic.