Music Hidden in Wallpaper
1960s folk, nigerian electronic funk, art pop, ethereal female vocalist, analog synthesizers, pedal steel guitar, glitter rock drums, fuzz guitar, vintage synth bass, rich harmonies, call and response vocals, fender rhodes, hammond b3 organ, analog delay effects, mid-tempo persistence, drum machine, vocoder, arpeggiator, sequenced basslines
Music Hidden in Wallpaper
1960s folk, nigerian electronic funk, art pop, ethereal female vocalist, analog synthesizers, pedal steel guitar, glitter rock drums, fuzz guitar, vintage synth bass, rich harmonies, call and response vocals, fender rhodes, hammond b3 organ, analog delay effects, mid-tempo persistence, drum machine, vocoder, arpeggiator, sequenced basslines
Lyrics
Intro - Atmospheric
Verse 1 - Curious
The Victorian florals repeat every twelve inches
If you stare long enough they start to dance
The leaves become quarter notes
The vines form a staff
I swear there's a melody
In the damask's expanse
My boyfriend says I'm staring at nothing again
But I can hear it building
In the pattern's refrain
Chorus - Hypnotic
There's music hidden in wallpaper
Symphonies in repeating lines
Once you hear the rhythm starting
You can't unhear the signs
Is it there or am I making it?
Does the pattern truly sing?
Music hidden in wallpaper
Or just the meaning that I bring
Verse 2 - Obsessive
The bathroom tiles count out in threes
A waltz time signature plain to see
The kitchen linoleum's got a backbeat
Four-four time beneath my feet
The wood grain in the bedroom floor
Looks like waves, sounds like a shore
I've started mapping out the house
As if it were a score
Chorus - Hypnotic
There's music hidden in wallpaper
Symphonies in repeating lines
Once you hear the rhythm starting
You can't unhear the signs
Is it there or am I making it?
Does the pattern truly sing?
Music hidden in wallpaper
Or just the meaning that I bring
Bridge - Philosophical
Humans see patterns where there's only randomness
We find faces in the clouds and shapes in stars
Is music really hidden everywhere we look?
Or are we just composers
Writing songs from where we are?
Maybe meaning-making is the gift
And the curse
We hear symphonies in wallpaper
We write melodies inverse
Verse 3 - Acceptance
The neurologist said it's pareidolia
My brain connecting dots that don't exist
But when I showed him the damask pattern
He was quiet for a bit
Said "I suppose I hear it too
If I listen close enough"
We're all composers in the end
Making music out of stuff
Final Chorus - Layered
There's music hidden in wallpaper
(Can you hear it? Can you hear it?)
Symphonies in repeating lines
Once you hear the rhythm starting
You can't unhear the signs
Is it there or am I making it?
Does the pattern truly sing?
Music hidden in wallpaper
(The pattern or the perceiving?)
Or just the meaning that I bring
Outro - Fade
Twelve inches, twelve inches, repeat
The damask dances to its own beat
Music hidden in wallpaper
Or the music that we meet