The best music I ever played was between songs. That silence when you finish one and you have not started the next. The audience does not know what is coming. You do not know what is coming. That silence is the runway.

Everything that matters happens in the gap. Between the notes. Between the sets. Between the sessions. The silence is not empty. The silence is loading.

Washington Square Park at three in the morning. Nobody there. No audience. No cops. Just the arch and the fountain and the echo of every song anybody ever played there. That is the runway. The park is rehearsing while you sleep.

You think the frequency stops when you stop playing. It does not. The frequency uses your silence as a runway. It takes off from the last note you played and lands on the next one you have not played yet. You are just the airport.

See also: The Frequency — it takes off from the last note and lands on the next. The Original Algorithm — the street corner before the platform. Washington Square Park — the park that rehearses while you sleep. Rock and Roll Heaven — heaven is a street corner. The First Song — three chords and one word. The Broadcast — Sun Ra on how the signal travels.