Richard at Rose Quartz reminded me earlier today that I'd gotten a mysterious package in my inbox recently from one Mickey Mickey Rourke, the moniker of Miller Rodriquez.
A few chimes and lightly picked guitar arpeggios later and we're booking a flight to a slow-motion montage in a mid-nineties indie flick shot in a wintry North American city with cars slowly buried in snow rifts and lib art students finding their way.
Not to sell this beauty short, just feeling this score. It takes a certain calm serenity to make ambient music that can be this captivating.
