I was late to the show. Everyone else had already watched it. My older son who is crazy-busy in law school had watched it. So finally I watched. And while the writing and Monterey and the mystery are compelling what really slayed me was the sound track. In particular, the song “Cold Little Heart” that plays over (or is that under?) the opening credits. The singer is Michael Kiwanuka, who was born in London, and whose parents had fled to the UK from the Idi Amin regime in Uganda.
What the song brings to mind is the great soul singers, and Kiwanuka has been compared to Curtis Mayfield.
Sometimes a song arrives at just the right time and the words fill the mind in compelling ways. When I first encountered this song, I was deeply confused about a relationship. I had fallen into a bit of an entanglement with someone who then, for lack of a better word, sorta vanished one day. Not really a “ghosting” scene — more of a vibe where a layer appeared that created a distance. I did not know what was going on with him and he was not terribly forthcoming. Vague, really.
Then he re-emerged from beneath the layer and told me about how he had been deeply enthralled with someone else who turned out to be mentally unstable. How he had to break up with her. How hard the break up was. He told me about buying her $800 dinners and how she was rubbish at sex. It was weird. I listened but it took me two weeks to form a response. But he wanted to be back tight with me, he said in a sobby voice (this was a voice message) because he realized that I was one of the good people. And his new year’s resolution was to avoid what he called “sexy dangerous” people and spend more time with people like me.
Can we ever trust someone like this? Who vanishes because he has become deeply enthralled with another in a category that is so banal, almost comic book classification, ie, “sexy dangerous”? I think the answer is yes but no. Cold little heart. It chills the heart but maybe a cold heart is a safe and strong heart. I keep this person close but afar from my cold little heart. I listen to Michael Kiwanuka and he seems to get this on an almost cosmic level. Music offers this sort of cosmic connection in a way that actual humans sometimes miss.
I have moved on to other songs by Kiwanuka, particularly one that talks about how “you can’t break me down.” I wonder what happened to prompt this writing and I am grateful he wrote these songs. Solidarity.
OK: Just some thoughts.