I love music that sounds like an orchestra warming up. The swell that lives deep in the stomach, the strange overtones that salve into the shoulders, the melodies that burst and melt in the mouth. I sometimes refer to The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid as the musical equivalent of what’s in my head when I’m creating. Or thinking deeply. Or feeling alone. I think much of what draws me to this music is its sadness. It’s important to feel your sadness lives somewhere outside you, too.
With muscle and vinegar. With all of my heart I can offer.
Right now I’m somewhere in southern California, on a train or on a bus. I have no internet access, and scheduled this post to appear in spite of the facts. Today, goodbye is an art of epilogue. A spring-loaded surprise that helps make leaving easier, by making it way, way worse.