The music of my head has apparently been translated into actual sound by Ricky Martin in Jaleo. With throbbing samba beat and hypnotically whirling vocals*, it is the sound of striding powerfully through dark corridors blazing a trail of white fire behind you. It is more than a song that inspires images. It pounces, it ululates, it rends - and the images come, swaying their metaphorical hips saucily just out of sight.
Yay, sexy samba.
*Said vocals in Spanish, most importantly, so that semantics doesn't dare rear its head. This is voice, not words.