There is no place on Earth where my brain is more alert than in the dentist’s chair.
Seriously. I know many people dread the dentist, but I feel like I’m never so full of life-altering epiphanies as when I’m trying to ignore the fact that several people have their hands inside my mouth.
Maybe that’s particular zen I mastered from more than four years of dull orthodontia appointments. Or, perhaps it’s about deepening your relaxation through discomfort, like hot yoga or lying on a bed of nails.
It would be terrific brainstorming time if not for the fact that it’s difficult to jot down major brainwaves while tiny motors are whirring just beside your tongue.
(Honestly, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I touch type well enough that might be able to manage with a wireless keyboard on my lap. Perhaps once I’ve forged a trusting relationship with my Kiwi dentist I can convince her to let me give it a try. Think of all the blog posts I could knock out during a cleaning!)
This peculiar introduction is my way of explaining that I didn’t hear Dua Lipa’s “We’re Good” for the first time during a dental checkup, but it was the first time I really heard it. There was something about it that my dentist-zen brain responded to immediately. I furiously attempted to jot down mental notes that I could reconstruct later.
First, there is the two chord figure in the reggae-tinged verse. The chords are a G#m and a C#. That’s not such an unusual combination of chords, but something about their use here pings my brain in a peculiar way.
It’s the F in the C# chord. That note doesn’t exist in G#m natural minor, which means the song is not in the “normal” minor key our ears expect to hear. From the second measure the song starts breaking your expectations. That musical uncertainty is reflected in the contradictory opening lyric:
I’m on an island, even when we’re close.
