Just got back from a mind altering massage session. During the opening stages of which, while pre-trance, I tried hurriedly to recall how "Me and Bonnie" sounded -- it felt important because I had started planning this review before heading off.
Needless to say, I didn't recall the right tune. However, when my time was up I did have a light craving for Nina Simone's "Sinnerman," which, funnily enough, isn't far off melodically. Leading me me to think that perhaps, somehow, during my dimension shifting sixty-minute, fifty dollar kneading the sounds in my brain were moulded from Freedom Fry's into Nina Simone's.
If that's the case, then it's not farfetched to imagine all good new music being the side effect of a deft shiatsu.