Normally the first thing I unpack when I move into a new place – or the first thing I buy, if it’s a new country – is a stereo. A house without music is not a home. “Silence, something about silence makes me sick.”<1>
But so far we haven’t got round to buying one. Part of the reason is that we are right in the heart of the city, so there’s no silence to bug me. There are constantly people and trams and city sounds surrounding us, echoing off walls and bouncing right into our acoustic apartment.
But another reason is that our apartment has come ready equipped with its own soundtrack. I haven’t yet figured out what is in the courtyard below me, but for many hours of the day we’re treated to a grand piano belting out classical tunes. Earlier today, there was a sax and maybe a tuba or brass instrument of the larger kind. The past two evenings we’ve also had a soprano. We’re either sharing a courtyard with a high class music school, or our neighbour is a fucking virtuoso. Either way, the soundtrack is very welcome.
<1> Rage Against the Machine
