Remember this line? It’s thin. Well. You thought it was thin, but actually it’s even thinner than that. So thin, in fact, that there’s no point placing a visual representation of it because the naked eye cannot see it. So we’ll have to make do with this one. A representation of the original thin line. Anyway. […]
I can remember fuck all of my previous existence, just a few snatched and bloody snapshots.
I’m going to be listening to this on repeat for the rest of the month. And I’m going to be repeating this status update while I do.
I know who this sounds like. You think that bothers me? You crazy, girl. Why would that bother me?
If everyone sings like they’re hungover, and if all the instruments sound very vaguely woozy and splatted with alcohol, it’s because they very probably are.
So what does this tell us? That I still have a musical bone in my body? That we all reference from the familiar? That nothing is new? To my mind, it’s all about telling something true. And therein lies the spark.
Seweeeet!!! Thought stuff like this had died and gone to the pub. A rough jewel of integrity in a sea of overproduction and hype. ‘course they’ll never ‘get’ anywhere – and therein lies their beauty. Made my day. Thanks fir that. Thanks indeed.
Last year was sensational for music. This year was even more sensational.
No room for melody or intransigence because life fucking gets worse every stifled, stunted year that passes. Noise annoys, but silence scars even harder.