On Routine

I have long been a Porcupine Tree fan, but I recently discovered this Steven Wilson track titled Routine. (This band is always "discovered" because it has always been obscure for mysterious reasons).

On its face, it is about a woman that is bereft, but the real underlying meaning is the malaise of ("Anesthetized") routines and constant busyness preventing the full experience of the quotidian, or even full bereavement, which comes after the primal scream and release and the end.

Keep cleaning keep ironing
Cooking their meals on the stainless steel hop
Keep washing keep scrubbing
Long until the dark comes to bruise the sky...

Since the advent of MTV almost 40 years ago, we have a tendency to attach more meaning to visuals; We don't always enjoy the sonic elements as much as we should. The subject matter of a song can be dark, and we can totally miss that point if we just enjoy the music as is, and perhaps later understand what the song is about. Sometimes this can take years or decades. This happens in visual art as well: We are so overtaken with the aesthetics that we miss the nuance.

Our visual bias is ironic, as sonic perception is the first thing that develops in life. 

P.S. This song caused an earworm, both sonically and philosophically.