Friday, August 3, 2007

Where The Streets Have No Name


"And when I go there / I go there with you / It's all I can do"

The Edge's guitar riff starts off slow and soft... Were those opening notes from an organ?

I turn up the car stereo. I am driving. The love of my life is sitting in the passenger seat. Our heads are starting to bob. We are driving through plains, or maybe mountains. If we are very lucky, we are driving next to the ocean. In Alberta, we are almost always driving through endless fields of canola.

Guitar riff is getting faster, louder, more intense. Cymbals come in, then drums.

The sun is streaming through the window. I start tapping the steering wheel with my fingertips, keeping time with the drumbeat. Dusty looks over at me and smiles. I am lost in the rhythm of driving, tapping, bobbing. I am leaning into the steering wheel, ready to run, ready to fly.

The Edge's fingers must be on fire. Larry Mullen drops a beat. Adam Clayton lays down a net of bass to catch it.

As the music gets faster, my foot on the gas pedal gets heavier. I eagerly approach a hill in the distance. The car and I are one. This song is our heartbeat. I am over the hill before the next chord progression. Sisyphus should have picked this song for his eternal work soundtrack. It might have driven him to push that rock right over the slope, right over to freedom.

My heart is going to burst out of my chest with the next guitar riff/drum and bass combo. I know what is coming next. I take a deep breath and Bono wails for me.

"I want to run!"

Early tomorrow morning, Dusty and I are leaving town for a relaxing weekend with some friends up at a lake cabin. This song will be cued up for the drive.

"I want to feel sunlight on my face... "


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