By the time I graduated from college, however, funk was in decline and my listening was at a dead end. Dan and other friends had spent their college years listening to the Clash, Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division, Gang of Four, and R.E.M. They tried to turn me on to these and similar bands, and while I recognized a certain vitality in this music, I could never identify with it. The smart lyrics and melodies could not atone for the frenetic and clunky rhythms, which offended my funk drummer’s ears. It sounded as if this music was being played by people whose glasses were slipping off their noses.
So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star: How I Machine-Gunned a Roomful Of Record Executives and Other True Tales from a Drummer’s Life
Jacob Slichter
Rahel put on her sunglasses and looked back into the Play. Everything was Angry-colored. Sophie Mol, standing between Margaret Kochamma and Chacko, looked as though she ought to be slapped. Rahel found a whole column of juicy ants. They were on their way to church. All dressed in red. They had to be killed before they got there. Squished and squashed with a stone. You can’t have smelly ants in church. The ants made a faint crunchy sound as life left them. Like an elf eating toast, or a crisp biscuit.
The God of Small Things
Arundhati Roy
So the phone was left on the little three-legged table beside the sofa, as unsteady as a spider on an ice cube.
Anxious People
Fredrik Backman