Blast of cold air
"465" is a pop instrumental. You know, no words. Yeah, I can guess what you're thinking: Pop songs aren't pop songs without the baby babys and the bah-bah-bahs. Furthermore, pop songs aren't pop songs in 2007 without the ululations, the melisma, the hip-hop cameo.
"465" isn't a pop song. But it is an instrumental track by a French pop duo (Delphine and Rémi). And if you think you can find your way through a song without a vocal breadcrumb trail, it's awfully good. Forget the facts that I used the P-word earlier and that the players call themselves The Sunny Street. This ain't no sunny. It's got nothing to do with August. Drums skitter on cracked ice; reverbed guitars and "fake string arrangements" (their words) arc with the grace and inevitability of a January moon. Late one night five months from now you might emerge from a crowded party, or a dark movie theater or a Mexican restaurant, bat-blind and fever-hot (smelling of beer or popcorn or corn tortillas), and see that solemn moon climbing the sky. And snag the crisp air on the tip of your tongue. And sense the subzero sting through your boots and thick socks in the bones of your toes. And feel alive in a way you haven't for so long.