which was interesting. because in the centre of sydney, i've always thought of the noise there, the rush of cars, buses, trucks, the flow of people, the sound of food, of music (lots of background music in the centre of sydney, you ever noticed?) and that to be the hustle of life. it is noise that shows life. i can't remember hearing the sound of the waves at the rocks, not automatically--and certainly not first--but at any rate, it doesn't seem as important to the sign of life.
drift out onto roads, and the noise of automobiles becomes something else, the dull grind of artificialness. drift into the suburbs, and those sounds remain the same, and it is certainly more quiet, but the sound of life is the birds, the rustle of leaves, the screams of children, music (though not the background music of the centre of sydney, which is found in the stores and drifting out like vile thoughts to lodge in your mind... oh? too much? yes, well, the next time i am forced to listen to kylie minogue or any other derivative of music i don't like, i will scream and tear the speakers out instead then... heh. that was stupid. delete? nah. madam g will love it.)... well, i lost track of where i was, bound sufficient to say that sounds in different areas have different signals, for life and the grind of the future.
i also got thinking about pub music, though probably because i was in one last week. (what a fantastic life i have.) pub music changes where you go as well: in parramatta, it's the 80's glam rock and the newer current rock, but whatever, hair is in and cold chisel was still played why i was there. it's triple m, or today fm, or whatever version of m is that plays cold chisel.
it reminds me of that area 7 song, 'nobody likes a bogan'.