(My brain seems to make everything linear. I like to imagine the first strum of an electric guitar as sharp mountains, right side up and upside down, exploding from a flat line of silence. But these mountains are fuzzy in their sharpness- the electricity coursing up their slopes and blurring the lines with a zzzpt zzpt sound. Electric guitar is fuzzy mountains growing from both sides of a line forever running forward, relentless like time.) There is this song by The Antlers that I like to listen to on Sunday afternoons.
(The second dimension is a square. Three minutes and twenty-six seconds is such a small square of time to show someone your two inches of ivory carving, your tiny window of the world. Do you really have a moment to spare for a drawn out opening, for a shimmering bell to clatter twice and fade into the air while everyone waits for the fuzzy mountains? Why do we always wait for the fuzzy mountains?) It's a pretty short song- like three minutes or something.
(Multiply it three times by itself and it becomes cubed. The bass pounds through the song, throwing up rocks and dirt as it plows its way through the fuzzy mountains. I watch it cutting through and eating away the line that the mountains perch and hang from. I thought the bass was supposed to be supportive rather than destructive? Perhaps The Antlers thought they were pretty clever, throwing in the giantess of a bass halfway through the song to add another "dimension", give that listener some excitement. I don't really buy it.) But it is nice music to do the dishes to.
(Time is a line and the fourth dimension at the same time.) Maybe I'll download their whole album sometime.
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