The Round Irregular Jigsaw – On Finishing Without Forcing my new post on The Polymath site is a reflection on creative intelligence, finishing without force, and how alignment allows work to complete itself. Without striving, proof, or performance. It can be read here.
Bipolar Hypomania Also As Physical Illness is a new post by Neal Reid on The Listening Room HQ of first account living with bipolar. Bipolar Hypomania Also As Physical Illness approaches how physical illness is felt by those in a bipolar hypomania phase. It can be read here.
editors note: As soon as I saw Neal’s text about The Asphalt World on The Mild Ones – a group I’m also part of – I was hooked. The Asphalt World is very special for me, and the only song I always know how to play on the guitar, albeit on my own lo-fi stripped down way. It instantly felt like his essay belonged on Mondo.
The song reminds me of where I grew up. The connection is primal, it’s not a higher order function, like choosing Asphalt World over Things Can Only Get Better by D-ream for instance. It touches me somewhere deep.
Lots of people lead idyllic lives by the coast, like my best friend who is from South West Wales. Kids would play in streams and swim in the sea and build huts in the woods. We did some of that, of course, Birmingham being famous for its canals if nothing else, but my most vivid memory of my young life is the smell of Tarmac, aka asphalt. It seemed to be with me all the time as progress increasingly drove, quite literally, through our green spaces.
The lyrics themselves seemed impossibly glamorous and ethereal to my 20 year old mind:
I know a girl, she walks the asphalt world She comes to me, I supply her with ecstasy Sometimes we ride in a taxi to the ends of the city Like big stars in the back seat, like skeletons, ever so pretty
The very idea of getting a 7-minute taxi into town was a bit glamorous. We used to walk there and home regularly, although if we were feeling particularly flush, weβd get the bus. The idea that we could βfly in a taxi, to the ends of the city, like big stars in the back seatβ was inconceivable, especially as the literal read of that line has the protagonists buying real drugs. βI supply her ecstasy.β
The lyrics are so sensual and Brettβs voice gradually increases in urgency; itβs a winter nightβs quest for possibly illicit sex, βhow does she feel when she’s next to youβ and ultimately βthe sex turns cruelβ; the perilous pursuit of risky drugs and using them for said sex; the guitar, bass and drums turning more frantic, once gentle guitar lines become swirling confusion as the cab speeds up, the racing rhythm section pounding to near panic attack levels as the city lights whoosh by and light the scene, βlike skeletons, ever so prettyβ.
Looking up the train tracks for life.
The Asphalt World lyrics:
I know a girl, she walks the asphalt world She comes to me, I supply her with ecstasy Sometimes we ride in a taxi to the ends of the city Like big stars in the back seat, like skeletons, ever so pretty I know a girl, she walks the asphalt world
But where does she go and what does she do? And how does she feel when she’s next to you? And who does she love in her time honoured fur? Is it me or her?
I know a girl, she walks the asphalt world She’s got a friend, they share mascara, I pretend Sometimes they fly from the covers to the winter of the river For these silent stars of the cinema, it’s in the bloodstream, it’s in the liver I know a girl, she walks the arse-felt world
But where does she go and what does she do? And how does she feel when she’s next to you? And who does she love in her time honoured fur? Is it me or her? With ice in her blood and a dove in her head Well, how does she feel when she’s in your bed? When you’re there in her arms and there in her legs Well, I’ll be in her head ‘Cause that’s where I go and that’s what I do And that’s how it feels when the sex turns cruel Yes, both of us need her, this is the asphalt world
With ice in her blood and a dove in her head Well, how does she feel when she’s in your bed? When you’re there in her arms and there in her legs Well, I’ll be in her head ‘Cause that’s where I go and that’s what I do And that’s how it feels when the sex turns cruel Yes, both of us need her, this is the asphalt world
Essay originally posted by Neal Reid on The Mild Ones – Suede Fan Group Facebook account on December 29 2025.