The Music of Exploding Lights So you´re still listening to your baby-boomer music while watching the crying colours of the light: white or coloured lines splitting up within seconds into all too bright and pulsating rainbow colours. But this time it´s not Pink Floyd, or the Grateful Dead, God forbid, not even your favourite poison, The Doors, plus the soft or hard drugs that are doing it. It´s a random computer programme and neither your voice nor the music sound the same as they did in your first girlfriend´s cellar with her old record player. Today you´re sober, a bit dizzy perhaps, but definitely not stoned and the difference to the flower power days, including the lost kick, is only a small price you´ve got to pay, thank God, for being still alive and kicking thirty-odd years down the road.