The moment where a motion of sensation moves those ivories in your head that only you can hear and it starts to be nearly a song you know, where the rhythm and melody are at the tip of your tongue, the shape of it hurting and blind in there, so you ask the ears of others with a six-point shit-rendition whistling humming mumble of what you hope is the hook to the tune you can't quite recall but can feel down in the clay foundation of where you're standing now. Context, humming, and feeling don't quite make it across to your friends, not quite, and if they know it, they don't know they know it. You look through your music, scanning for the names that might be right, you narrow it down. Then you listen, because you need to paint the shape you put your hands all over, need to see it, run some light through that dubious crystal of sound-meter-volume-pitch.
And for most folk, that's all you need. That and, eventually, the fader on your turntable interest.
I couldn't do it. I needed the shape.
The music I have is... many. Varied. Duplicitous. A million variants on twenty-seven themes.

It took me a long time to find out it was Orbital - Halcyon & On & On.

Oh, it's a pretty good song. The best? No. Not a life-death-and-fucking kinda needed song. But it's a clean song, pleasant, soothing. Vocals without lyrics. Pleasant female voice. The soundtrack to sunny above-the-clouds dreams in the movie where the spirit-paper was steamed out of its wrinkles, cleaned up, and you can see the future in the sunrise after a night fighting in the temptations of rusting spikes, low life, and underculture.

I like it.

Imagine an apartment above the skyline. Windows from cieling to floor. View stretching across the world. Sun big and soft and yellow on the horizon, beams bright and strong in the air, giving the whole city a halo. It's hopeful.

Writing about any subtle feelings in a song is absurd. Words are calculations in a realm far removed from music.

If you got it, listen to it if you feel like it. If you don't, turns out it is on the Hackers soundtrack.

Might not mean much. It's just a soft, clear song. It goes for ten minutes.

I like the sound of it.