I live under the flight-path into Heathrow and every so often I notice the planes as a high-pitched, gentle ringing sound. It must be something to do with the cold air because I haven't noticed that sound all summer, and it's curious because the noise is so gentle and far away that I usually miss it. It's not intrusive like cars on the road. Here's the thing: The sound of aeroplanes passing overhead, distant in a totally blue, cold sky is also the opening and underlying tone of Air's Alone in Kyoto. The sound evokes the song; the song evokes the journey.
I live under the flight-path into Heathrow and every so often I notice the planes as a high-pitched, gentle ringing sound. It must be something to do with the cold air because I haven't noticed that sound all summer, and it's curious because the noise is so gentle and far away that I usually miss it. It's not intrusive like cars on the road. Here's the thing: The sound of aeroplanes passing overhead, distant in a totally blue, cold sky is also the opening and underlying tone of Air's Alone in Kyoto. The sound evokes the song; the song evokes the journey.