I first heard Snow Patrol – Run while driving on Monday. It was playing on 102.1 (The Edge) and I had the good fortune to hear a repeat of the live performance Snow Patrol had done at 228 Yonge St.
I’m…not sure I can fully express what went through my mind when I heard that song. Or that I even want to.
I remember thinking that it was all wrong. The setting was all wrong for the…unhappiness, the defeat, the longing…it conveys. Looking around, I saw cars, I saw people, the muted ebb and flow of holiday life.
And more than anything, I wanted it all to go away.
I wanted to drive back through the foothills in Utah at night, not a car on the road. The only illumination the red glow off the dials, the pinpoints of a thousand stars. Foot off the gas. Slow down. Let the music drown the engine out. I can see my hands on the steering wheel, taking the turns slowly, every move a smooth motion. I wanted the pace of life to slow to the pulse of the music, to cultivate a link deeper than simply listening.
Some things can’t be.
As I sit here typing this entry out, I pause and lean back. Turn off two of the three lamps in the room, leaving a single desk light. And I can take myself back. Sit back, close my eyes and imagine this place. This experience. I concentrate and I can see the road, not a single streetlight in sight. I can hear the music as I place myself in the car. And it all comes together – the feeling’s complete. Do I revel in introspection? Do I cherish unhappiness?
No doubt I’ll be lambasted for my choice in music. Either that or I’m way behind the curve.
This song…[shakes head] I’ll leave it at that.