This past Saturday—a week ago tomorrow—I was driving around in the afternoon when I switched the radio over to KEXP and was presented with the instantly recognizable breathy-ghost vocal—Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha—that introduces and runs throughout "O Superman", Laurie Anderson's classic debut single of 1981.

The song was just starting, which made me exceedingly happy. (How often do you get to hear all eight minutes and twenty-eight seconds of "O Superman" over the radio?) I couldn't remember the last time I'd sat still and paid attention to this song that's been a pop-art monument for the majority of my life, but I soon enough figured out that it had to have been at least eight years ago, because I suddenly knew I was hearing it for the first time since 9/11.

Well, you don't know me, but I know you.
And I've got a message to give to you.
Here come the planes.
So you better get ready. Ready to go.
You can come as you are, but pay as you go. Pay as you go.
And I said: OK. Who is this really? And the voice said:
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
Here come the planes.
They're American planes. Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?

I'm far, far from the first person to comment on the spooky sense of would-be prophecy foisted upon Anderson's enigmatic masterpiece by the events of 9/11, but hearing it for the first time since that day was chilling. The teensiest bit of Googling reminded me of the fact that less than ten days after the 2001 attacks, Laurie Anderson performed the song at a concert at NYC's Town Hall. Jon Pareles wrote about it in the New York Times:

The World Trade Center attack was never far from listeners' minds when Laurie Anderson performed at Town Hall on Thursday night. No one expected anything else. For two decades Ms. Anderson's songs and stories have mused on subjects at stake in the disaster: cities, information, freedom, technology, mortality and American identity. Her tone has grown less droll and more elegiac, and on Wednesday night what once seemed offhanded or oblique had turned chillingly prophetic.

She sang ''O Superman,'' from 1981. Accompanied by subdued keyboard chords, birdcalls and a repeating sample of her voice singing ''ha,'' it's a series of answering-machine messages: ''Here come the planes. They're American planes. Made in America.'' And she sang ''Let X=X,'' from her 1982 debut album, ''Big Science,'' which concludes ''I feel — feel like — I am — in a burning building — and I gotta go.'' A new song, ''One Beautiful Evening,'' concluded with Ms. Anderson intoning: ''Funny how hatred can also be a beautiful thing. When it's sharp as a knife. As hard as a diamond. Perfect.'' The silence was palpable.

I found the recording of this Sept. 20, 2001 performance of "O Superman" on iTunes, and it's stunning, the only divergences from the (perfect) original being the slightest catch in Anderson's voice when she comes upon certain phrases and the sense of an audience having its mind blown.

As Pop Matters notes, Anderson's not accepting prophet status. From her "Some Thoughts on the 'Live at Town Hall' Recording":

"[L]oss, betrayal, death, technology, anger and angels, these have often been the things I have written about. At Town Hall in New York I was singing for once about the absolute present."

Here's the instigating work in its full original form, from 1981 (and without "subtitulado," no matter what that YouTube banner says).

(Thank you, KEXP DJ.)