Sometimes you hear a song, and it's more than music… It's a painting, it's poetry, it's a full-length film, it's a photograph, it's someone's entire lifespan.
I've been working on a new zine, mostly comprised of images and things; and while I'm busy at work editing photographs and collages, I like to listen to music, of course. Lately, I've been finding inspiration in instrumental music, for the most part. I curate playlists that help conquer the time and put me in a trance. Sometimes, like last night, a song will slip on and sink in.
Last night, Eluvium's “Amreik,” the first track off his fourth album, Copia came on. It was very subtle and I was like, “wait a minute…” Then it hit me. A song like that stops me dead in my fucking tracks. I can't ignore it. It's like watching the sky dissolve. It's not something I can turn my attention away from. So I spent the rest of the night listening to Eluvium and feeling a bit odd, out of sorts, somber, depressed maybe, hopeful. There was just some odd wash of emotions, and that's what I feel is the point of music like this. It creates landscapes for you to sit in and just feel things. It makes you feel everything and reel backwards into your own mind, reshaping memories, thinking about your future, mistakes, the happy spots; all of it.
If given an opportunity for Pink Priest to collaborate with whatever dream guests I could conjure up, Matthew Cooper would be high on that guest list. This is beautiful, epic music.