Among her many other talents, Jess has a savant-like ability to remember every single lyric to essentially every single song, ever.

Some obscure early-nineties dance hit will come on the radio, and she’ll sing along – not just with the choruses, but with the verses, too, word for word.

I, conversely, don’t know the lyrics to anything. Even songs I’ve heard hundreds of times. Sometimes, when I’m driving for example, I’ll actually listen to the words, and am shocked to discover the song is about something totally different than what I thought. But unless I really, really pay attention, the lyrics just seem to wash over me.

Over the years, I’ve spoken with a handful of musician friends, who say the same thing; they can hum the tunes, but don’t seem to retain any of the words. It’s as though we’re processing the songs in a totally different way, with a totally different part of our brains.

It makes me wonder if the lyrics people, then, hear the music in a completely different way, too, if the melodies and harmonies I pick apart gloss together into a cascade of pleasant but undifferentiated sound.

I’m not really sure. But I do, at least, know it’s one more area where Jess’ and my strengths complement each other. Put us behind the mic at an evening of karaoke, and she’ll be faking the melody, I’ll be mumbling my way through words I’m more or less making up. Yet we sound, if not good, then certainly passable. Which, at least if the audience is drunk, is probably good enough.