Music stopped...

The tune is rising like hertz waves on a radio tuner, when you need to look for a little while on the left or the right to get the correct signal. The record is collecting all the possible frequency waves in the universe, methodically recording, never loosing cracklings, parasites and imperfections.

I'm standing in a caddy, unworried about the way it moves. I'm travelling in the departments of a supermarket: everything is free for the eyes and ears.
I only watch and when the end of the counter comes, I'm leaded to the next one, collecting the impressions and advertising jingles...

Sometimes, the songs restart in the middle, played in another manner. Someone is switching the buttons and reminds are diluted like in a dream with foggy transitions.
Freescha come along, underline and redesign samples recalling something to my memory. Or maybe it's a part of cliché that fall from the wall of my skull:
A TV broadcast coming soon, a glass of milk on a formica table, my Goldorak jacket...

All the sounds are filling the chambers of my brain. Even through reception is blury, I can hear all the snatches of conversations, the sounds from the right and the left spreading in the place without any structure. It is a recollection of gaseous sound samples mixed in my own organic perception: in the first seconds, sound disappear like in a headphones disfunction. Music brings me exactly where I wanted to go: in a past that has never exist.

I think that something strange happens in the length, because sounds are growing old. It is scary and fascinating: step by step, samples sounds more mature. It's the music my father was listening, screams heard in a movie, some melancholic sounds, some unreleased 70's hits... a record tape remount with adhesive tape.... the stupid song which doesn't exist that I have never forget... a horror movie which I forgot the story and the name.... a biology document.

At night, I was remembering the sample sounds that I stored in my memory all day long. And when the dark was come, when everyone was sleeping, every sounds were dancing in the silence. To sleep was just wait for the next day to steal other new sounds to the universe.

Once again, I am in a supermaket and a Hip-Hop song give the rhythm to a fashion parade seen on a TV screen. Hostess announcements are following special offers, human shouts. So much departments, so much sounds, so much tunes to listen, so much bits to fill with free stuff that can be taken without beeing paid.

And one day, I lost myself, it might happen soon. "What's your name? Come with me, we're going to look for your parents". Since it happened, the snatches that I was collecting with fever became lost pieces of the surrounding chaos. I started to replace these noises by adult screams, conversations, numbers...
I really think that day, in that supermarket, I have lost myself.