Into the wild flat yonder

Tennessee Valley

Slow tones. Emanating! See also: 18th Dye, Poolhouse Blue. Snowy white skies. Bonfire smoke. Dead trees (snags in the forest). Cigarettes, walks to and from the creek. Fog in the cemetery. A community assembled around an old kitchen table. Card games, cider, some wine, and a bag of chips.


Sundial is some San Francisco ichor. Or the SF of the past—long, long past. The music of the current San Francisco would be an unending musique concrete track of tenants’ objections and wails of despair as they’re evicted from their apartments; the sounds of people slurping Soylent and nootropics; keyboards clacking; and new portmanteaus like “disruptovate” and “pivotation” spoken in a chilling, quiet tone by an old man. Sundial is referring to a city that no longer exists. It’s a pretty artifact, a recreation, an optimistic sketch.

[BUY Animal Races]

Filed under: Music Leave a comment
Comments (0) Trackbacks (0)

No comments yet.

Leave a comment

No trackbacks yet.