The electric piano sets a calm pulse, almost cheerful, and Carole King's voice comes in from bed, staying in all morning just to pass the time, already past the argument.
In November 1971, Led Zeppelin put out a record with no title on the cover and no band name on the sleeve, as if the music were tired of being introduced.
The drums lock into a figure that does not develop so much as insist, dry and close, and a voice enters speaking several languages at once, none of them asked to explain.
A synthesiser hangs in the room like frost on a window, no drum kit to reassure you, and David Sylvian's voice enters as if he were afraid of waking the house.