A wonderful trip to SynchroniCity

I had all sorts of things lined up to post but have been hijacked by another case of an unexpected visit to musical SynchroniCity. If you've never been there I can assure you it's a rather lovely place.

Only a couple of weeks ago I was on a train early in the morning and heard Kate Bush's new album for the first time. As the second disc, based around the passing of a day, built up the sun rose in front of me and it was a stunning moment where everything fitted just so. The sun rose on the album and I was watch it actually happening in front of me. As much as I love music and can be a bit of an aesthete at times this doesn't happen fully that often.

It has this morning though. I walked out of the Metro on the way in to work and things conspired again.

I know it's hard to get a feeling like that across but I'll try. It's starkly winter cold and a heavy fog is blanketing everything. The first Christmas lights were giving the whiteout a wonderful warm coloured glow and as I left the station and the frozen air hit my face "Glasoli" by Sigur Ros (purveyors of some of the finest widescreen music you'll ever here) kicked into gear and I was magically transported to SynchroniCity again.

It's really kind of odd when everything meshes like that - the cold, the mist, the lights, the xylophones, the strings, the vocals et al. You could sit and plan things for a week and still not achieve that sort of feeling.

"It's just music" somebody once told me when I excitedly explained this sort of thing to them.

No it's not - at times like this it's so much more than that.