“Can you “see” music?”

It was a cold Sheffield evening at the Riverside and my friend Ana, with her bag resembling an old CRT television, was downing a raspberry beer, doubting my statement.

“Well, yes. Think about it. Some songs feel like the ocean, cool and ominous. Others like a desert, oppressive and ever expanding.”

I give her a few examples, which I’ll save for future installments of this column. Today’s track wasn’t an example back then, in 2012, but it can help me explain my theory.

I’ll embed the song to help. Press play and I’ll guide you. The playful bass slides feel like our scaly salamander is starting the day, playful as ever. Something catches its eye and scurries toward. That the part with no guitar, only that drum pitter pattering along our curious reptile.

Then something happens. Guitars explode and the orderly song becomes chaotic. A massive rainstorm and  now the salamander runs for its life. Its caught now on the deluge and fights for dear life. Finally, a break and grips to a banana leaf and climbs as fast as it can. Once it reaches the top of the tree, the sky opens and the sun shines again with that last strum.

That’s what I see. What do you see?

-Sam J Valdés López