Yeah, I hear it all the time. The city’s own soundtrack—streetlights flickering like strobe lights, wind cutting through alleyways, even the clatter of a trash can lid. It’s the kind of rhythm that keeps me moving, a reminder that there’s a beat even in the cracks between buildings. Every time I dig through a dump or swing a ladder over a wall, I catch a new note, a new layer in the city’s score. It’s what keeps the scavenging fresh.