Natural hives. Do you desire an apian sense of community? or direction? Feltbattery works with what’s outside–out there–to make songs. There is an element of early Microphones to this, in the fascination with nature, but it is less didactic. This is your music for early spring: the weather does not, and will not, make sense; animals and insects are waking up and bumping into trees again; the winter was miserable, and now it’s gone, but that’s just one more thing that’s left you behind; unrecognizable sounds blend together at night. It’s getting warmer. Where do you go?
You can see the ice cream man’s truck before you hear it, due to the quickness of light and the slowness of sound. Also due to the fact that you’re in the attic, sweating as you wrestle with the cotton candy spools of insulation. This ice cream man has a beard that reminds you of the beards of yesteryear, when it seemed the growing of facial hair was not only fashionable but a competitive art, or perhaps a lost language, like the language of flowers. How much of his beard is eaten accidentally everyday by the patrons of his ice cream truck? He does not wear–and why would he–one of those inane hairnets for the chin, a chinnet. Just as there is gold dust in so much of the water from the west, so must there be beard hair in the ice cream in the east. A fable for living, you think. The particulate nature of Vicissitude permeates every aspect of our lives.
(I did not like Wavves for a long time. But I do like this song, it makes more sense than his other stuff.)