this must be the place // talking heads
we must have moved into our apartment singing this song under our breaths or something. it had to have been seeping out of us. home, is where i wanna be, pick me up and turn me round. we must have been listening to it a lot. the bass was barrier-free and flesh with the floor for a few days, and, as we’ve since learned, apartment living is as good as communal in an old building like this, you hear virtually everything - enough to fill in the blanks, so i guess it is possible we just played it too much. but can you ever play an amazing song too much? the point is, i was honestly surprised when she knocked on our door at 10:30 at night and proceeded to serenade us the very tune we couldn’t for the life of us remove from our minds. it was literally an “oh, great,” moment. just when I had found a little reprieve! I hadn’t listened to it for at least an hour, i hadn’t thought about listening to it for at least 20 minutes. cleo was barking, viciously attempting to eat the stranger lady from the floor, but josh had her wedged snuggly against the couch with his leg, our relatively simple alternative to a beware of dog sign. i was actually a little scared. not of cleo, or her eating habits- of the situation. she was a 40-something mom type with prematurely silvering hair. she looked sophisticated and artsy at the same time, and tired, and a little crazy. what did she want? had we broken a rule? she didn’t introduce herself, she stumbled into broken lyric, a talking heads mad woman. she babbled random melody and mixed the words up. it took us a while to realize this wasn’t one of those sing-o-grams, at least the entire song intro. because didn’t those people, like, prepare before they sang? she wasn’t any good, and i was pretty sure josh was about to tell her so, like some altruistic randy jackson wanna-be - “wait, wait, wait!” but she stopped herself abruptly before he could, and stood silently, and the silence shocked us all into further silence, even cleo stopped barking. i stepped into view, “so you like, love that song, too?” i whispered, and she looked at me strangely. she said she’d never really heard it, not officially anyway. i must have looked confused, because she went on to explain that their bedroom must be directly below our bass box, and would we please stop playing that song. the song she had never officially heard, but now knew most of the lyrics to, with a pretty firm grasp of the melody.
