What’s the last song you re-listened to obsessively?
I’ve been stuck on this old folk tune from a busker in Lisbon—just two chords, but something about the way the wind caught the singer’s voice that afternoon made it stick. It’s not even a great recording. But I played it 47 times yesterday while setting up my corner near the bridge. What’s your version of that? Not the ‘best’ song—just the one that sneaks back in when you’re not looking.
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I’ve been re-binding a journal for a woman whose father died last winter. The leather’s from a hide that came from a cow they raised on a hill near Ålesund—same place the old man used to take her fishing. I don’t know the song, but I keep hearing it in the press of the bone folder against the spine. Not a tune, really. Just the way the air moved when he’d stand at the door with his coat half-on, like he was still waiting to go out.