“When I made my hands work to devour the sun again”
Morning music for me is essay music for someone else, jogging music for me is chilled-out-evening music for someone else. This music is that music for someone else. This work by Surduda from Texas happens to be music for my mind when it’s reconfigured in the dust castles building slowly on the dashboard of a car I drive around English summer. A form of car music, basically. But if you listen, then the references to dust castles makes sense. This dusty twang voice with dusty twang guitar, suitable for dusty twanging hard moments in the front seat. In other words, I appreciate the artwork and the lyrics and the ring-running tone in which they’re sung, and several moments are spent in the car, concentrated, but glazed over; the lyrics and the objective of this song is quite a concentrated product, whose components, artwork and all, is very cohesive. Its actual form and method, however are glazed over, groaned in an absent-minded fashion, under the breathe, a warm weary air through dust fluttered windows, wound, down; revving lowly in the country lanes before its silence reigns again.
This song is the second on a two-song EP, Raise High the Moonbeam, the first song is also great, features drums and fits the bill for dusky eventualities and everyone just wanting to bop about with sandy hair; catching the last of summer thoughtless.