Some songs are not kept because they are important. They are kept because they are ordinary, and ordinary things are often the first to vanish when a life changes. This Interlude was performed at the Seventh Bell Café in the capital’s lower avenues: steam from kettles, cups set down, quiet street traffic, and a simple morning tune played by a local group. No history. No revelation. Just the city at ease for a brief span of time.
Filed as: Interlude — Archive
Location: Capital City, lower avenues (Seventh Bell Café)
Occasion: Morning tea, street music
Notes: The tune feels familiar even when you cannot name where you first heard it.