Bodhi relaxes a bit as he considers. Paging through a mental index of sorts of music is as soothing as thinking his way through hyperspace calculations or card counting. Harmless, repetitive, unlikely to make trouble for him. (Actually doing the card counting usually does--he's decent at it, but not at dealing with the fallout when people notice. But in theory it's like meditation.) "N-no, I don't think do. I had... I had a decent recording collection, but, well." Like the rest of his very small life, abandoned when he set off under Galen's orders. Maybe it's stupid to miss his music and holovids more than just about anything else, but what else was there? He lived in pilot's seats and cantina booths. Nothing meaningful left behind. It's a wonder the empire even noticed something so small and insignificant disappearing.

Because Credence is there, he pulls himself out of it. "I, um, I didn't know you... you sing?" That's a skill itself. One Bodhi does not have. He likes doing it, actually, but only strictly alone, because his voice scares banthas.