FADE IN: Int. train: day A girl looks out of the window. Music.

A personal stereo is not just a personal stereo, and anyone who says it is is a big foo.

It is the soundtrack to Your Movie.

At least once or twice a day, the thought will cross my mind that this moment – this moment exactly – would be a great scene in a movie. No, no, the Opening Scene to a movie. This moment exactly would be a Great Opening Scene to a movie: possibly even rising to the heights of being included in one of those list shows on Channel Five that they show when they havent got anything else left to repeat.

Of course logically, I know full well that it would be a terrible, terrible first scene.

My life, in fact, would make among the worlds worst movies.
The opening scenes of great cinema are not, sadly, composed of chubby girls in sneakers walking down city streets with a bottle of tap water and a backpack, looking both ways when she crosses the road.

But none of that matters. Because the thing that makes it great in my head is the soundtrack.
See, to you, I might just be ambling along on the outside, but on the inside, Im pimp-strutting, the light hits me brightly inbetween the tall buildings, and the effect is a little like strobe.

And its all because Im listening to the Theme from Starsky and Hutch.

Enter the Dragon has a very similar effect.

If Im lucky, I can appear in up to four or five movies a day. It doesnt just happen with songs that are already on soundtracks, of course, that would be stupid.

No, it happens with anything.

This morning, I was listening to a soft, melodic Kings of Convenience song while staring out of the window at the early morning light hitting Canary Wharf, and I was most definitely the wispy girl in the opening scene of a European arthouse movie who stares out of the window of trains a lot, that representing her humdrum life while the soundtrack represents her inner beauty etc etc etc.

And then this evening, when a Bollywood classic came on just as we were pulling into Blackfriars, God DAMN if the Suits all standing higgledy-piggledy on the platform didnt pull themselves into formation and start dancing as one – men on one side, women on the other. That was great.

A Bach cello suite as I rush through the countryside will be the beginning of a very sad film. Probably a British one where someone has died and everyone has to come to terms with it and has no fun whatsoever. While the Pipettes on the walk to work suddenly places me in some kind of modern day Swingin London film. Or, for some odd reason, The Spice Girls movie, which is somewhat unexpected.

Or course, what I need to do now is identify the correct kind of movie mood desired for any kind of real-life-situation, pop in my headphones, and let life follow the natural course of the movie that SHOULD follow that soundtrack.

It is a complex plan, but I think it will work if we all close our eyes, click our heels together three times and mutually agree to pretend that that last paragraph made sense.

So lets say Im getting a dressing-down for some reason – then bish-bash-bosh, headphones in, and there we are. Something that *sounds* a little serious at first, but very quickly turns quite jolly. Some kind of Big Beat thing would be fine. Perhaps just History Repeating by Shirley Bassey and the dancey people. Im not so good with names. So yes. That would start all moody, and minor chordish, with me getting bollocked in a dark office. And then someone would drive a car through the window or something, and everything would get Very exciting, and me being rubbish would be forgotten.

And next time Im having a Very dull dinner, maybe extended family (or someone elses family more likely), I should pop my headphones in, flick through the song titles list, find the Benny Hill music, and everyone would start chasing each other around the table in double speed, pinching bottoms, wearing just underwear, dropping vegetables down low front/bottom cleavages and everything would improve substantially.

Similarly, in times of high stress, say, a car crash or something, I could simply flick on some soft jazz, perhaps Stacey Kent doing one of her Tribute to Fred Astaire numbers – Im thinking perhaps One for my Baby (and One More for the Road). Then suddenly, everything would be in slow motion, one of those scenes where the action is all very dramatic but the sound track is low-key. That way, it would be easier to rescue me. I believe my chances of recovery would be improved exponetially if I was in slow motion and everyone else wasnt.

I wonder if my life really is being made into one very long, very Very dull film. Its unlikely, but anythings possible. Blimey. I could sell the soundtrack rights to iTunes for Billions. Theres got to be something in that.

I should adjust my music collection accordingly. Some actual Waka-chika-waka-chika porn movie music would always come in useful, as would some thrash metal, in case I ever have to do a runner from the law down an alleyway. And, as occasion will almost certainly demand it, I should definitely get my hands on some Wham!
Obv.