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Music refuses to be contained. It won’t just sit there,
neat and orderly in the bins at a record store. It finds its
way into everything, shows up everywhere, and right when you
think you’ve got it, somehow it moves on.
Where is music now? First it’s in the cacophony of a tuning
orchestra, then it’s in the men’s restroom with
an itinerant saxophone player. Next it’s in the hands
of an inventor of instruments. Now it's in the rhythm of a step.
Some say music is where you find it. In fact,
music is where it finds you.
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