Sweet music is your best friend but will always leave you

I've realized something about myself. The sweeter the song, the catchier the hook, the worse my mood after listening. Enjoying that immediacy puts a spring in my step alright. Maybe I jump around. But make me have a conversation or put up with the slightest annoyance right after, and it's Mr. Hyde time.

It goes to my new theory that music is the absolute best thing ever, but only when it's happening. From the sublime, unfolding shapes of Cecil Taylor's improvs to the mental sugar rush you get with ace power pop, it all fizzles to a terrible letdown when life resumes. For me, there is no spillover. The noise of talking, doubt, fear, and regret don't get newly painted over. You don't wake up singing from the blissful dream. You wake up and get ready for work.

Here's a tune that made me happy for hours the other day inside the bubble of repeat. However unfortunately named, these midwestern kids exude the incomparable joy of spraying the air with tunefulness. And then it's over.

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin - Sink/Let It Sway