Nothing But The Beat


Thump thump! Thump thump! It’s the beat of a heart, pulsing and flowing with blood; keeping one alive, living.

Thump thump! Thump thump! It’s the beat of a war drum. The corpsmen with bugles at their side send that vivifying throb of sound straight through the marching battalions, on to war. On to death.

One sound, two fates.

Thump, thump! Keeping time to the paces of life, a steady unavoidable rhythm, one moves through this inevitability. Sometimes the pace quickens, packed with adrenaline and motivation. Occasionally it slackens, slowly swirling into a slow cycle of monotony.

Thump thump! Thump thump! Drums accompanied by the fanfare of the trumpeters and buglers and the metallic rattle of the snares. The guttural bellows of the bass-line complete the musical ensemble. Rising in crescendos and drowning in the diminuendo. Such is the beauty and surreality of it all.

But never shall the throbbing beat be ignored. It rules supreme, the timekeeper, the instigator and suppressor. The march: it begins and ends here. When the beat stops, all come to a halt.

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