Hello, things are feeling more and more back – somewhere with a weighing-down head on a neck, some denim shirt, some leggings, some high-heels from Maldova. yello, things are feeling more and more black – somewhere
weighing down and now settling down, feeling like the writings are engulfing something refreshing in my music critique. Ok so we were once 1X years old, now we’re maybe 2X years old: is it okay to latch onto music taste you don’t know to have anymore, to trust it like hell even when the world’s apparently at its ends over and over – I listen to this band that sound between Tokyo Police Club and The Killers, with a kind of Orson outlining. You know that’s just narrative, you know those albums are just me, the albums I managed somehow to hold onto for a little while – where you buy albums and then listen to them like you’d read books.
So maybe it’s nostalgia, complacent nostalgia, but maybe it’s not. And maybe we as music listeners must follow biographical lines in the same way that memories follow timelines – absurd & bizarre – this music syncs with some kind of in-love epistemology that is impossible to throw off, through taste and taste again, through thick and thin, through the opaque air of addiction, gradually getting more into it
The band are from Ireland, that’s awesome somehow how they’re real and playing SXSW in 2016.