There's a desperate ordinariness about everyday life, when the things you do fall readily into the pattern that has evolved over weeks and months of your life. The French have a saying for it: "Metro, boulot, dodo", or in English, "Subway, work, sleep", a relentless drumbeat of sameness and habitude that deadens the faces of the people whose eyes you meet on the way to work or home. Here's a song that puts that ordinariness, that quotidian routine on a large poster and hangs it on the wall for us all to look at, see ourselves reflected in its patterns, the tiny dots that, as you move backwards, resolve themselves into a photograph of our lives.
"And by five o’clock everything’s dead/And every third car is a cab/And ignorant people sleep in their beds/Like the doped white mice in the college lab", sing Del Amitri. "Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all/The needle returns to the start of the song/And we all sing along like before/Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all".
Today, of all days, I just wish this were the case.