We laughed. Rav took an age to find the key and then put the key in the hole and then turned the key to unlock the door of his red, so red, Volkswagen Golf. I shuffled into the passenger side. I felt safer here. For a moment. And then the air became dense. I waited for the electrics to be activated so I could open the window. An age, I waited.
He clicked the key the wrong way and the car spluttered and wretched. We laughed. Then Gang Starr dropped a beat with ‘full clip’. The subwoofer in Rav’s boot bounced. It was too much for me, but I was captive. Rav knew somehow. ‘Shall we put that album on?’ And then without my response, he did.
‘My Way’ eased it’s way into our space. I could hear Rav leaning back. My body wasn’t complying but I wanted to do the same. And we listened to Frank. The strings sucked us into that studio, where this song was born, that arena where the song became a bigger animal, and we got thrown around. And it got bigger. And each second felt like hours. And the space, the noise, the movements, felt rich. Sometimes too rich. And then it died down before the waves of strings came back stronger and enveloped us. ‘’Siiiiiick!’ Rav broke our code of silence and bounced in excitement. and I nodded in silence… though my movement may have been limited. Still partially paralysed and still slightly disconnected from my body.
And then Frank decided it was over.
He shuffled again. Rav pulled out a Yorkie bar.
‘What? Munchies?’ We laughed.
