mixing it up

If you've ever heard a good dj spin, you know that the segues they pull from song to song are not as easy as the uninitiated might assume. The way one song flows into another, or the way beats intertwine to keep you shaking your tail with the same exact groove ... these may seem effortless, but they are planned, thoughtful. I imagine the dj who pulls off an immaculate transition feels quite a lot of satisfaction, but it's not the same as the dancer, lost in the rhythm, who only feels a deepening or slackening, some kind of minor adjustment in what was already so very good. The satisfaction isn't the same; the awareness is different.

I know very little of such things, I'm just borrowing the theme. Because, you see, I know what it's like when it doesn't flow. If you've listened to one of those party-mix filters on your itunes, for example, you know the awful transitions, the accidental overlapped pairs that mix like oil and water; that do a little something nasty to the song on either end. The beats thump wrong. It feels tainted--like drinking rusty water.

I'm in the middle of some kind of transition, and, a bit like the unknown trip ahead the moment you drop the tab of acid on your tongue, I don't know which path I'm on. I don't know what kind of transition I'm heading into...and I fear it's the smooshed up, dropped music-box version, the existential unfortunate segue from song to song. I don't know why there's recent Madonna on the soundtrack, or why men who seem so very very different, but may in fact be the same repeating character, appear and re-appear. I don't know which beat is leading, nor in which direction. I don't know if my heart's thump is regular, reliable, keeping the beat and telling me something important; or erratic, in error, thudding itself into some contorted palpitation that only feels right because I'm not aware enough to know the difference.