From the album The Years EP
By all accounts, it should have ended with “To the Lighthouse”, like the old one did. There’s an air of finality in the way Denise sang the line “hush the static sound of time dispersing” that appeared to serve the dual purpose of reiterating the main argument of The Years, while shoehorning some vague semblance of closure to the preceding.
Yet the E.P has changed, undeniably, since it made its first, embryonic appearance nearly two years ago. Beyond the physical product with which it will be packaged as, but rather, the idea of what the release means, especially to Denise and I. These feelings, outlined in Quiet America, will vary from person to person—affectionate addendum—precocious post-script—endearing epilogue—or perhaps just curious cash-grab.
I tend to view Quiet America as a sort of “Hello!” to counter Lighthouse’s “Goodbye!”. A “Hello” steeped in ambivalence, and a little self-doubt, but a greeting none the less. I suppose that’s what I mean when I said the E.P. represents something else to us now. Whereas it’s initial release—set loose upon the ravenous bowels of the internet (and what ravenous bowels they are!)— was a resignation of sorts, mired in the kind of disconnection and existential angst that played a large role in defining the aughts for many. The Years now represents the idea that life can improve in the most unusual and fantastical ways if one were to open themselves to experience (something I fought tooth and nail for many years) and that, as always, music has the capacity to grow with us through the many different stages in our lives.
So in short, I think we’ve come a long way from the hospital bed in “Lately”, and I’m very grateful that we have the opportunity to say much more (when the time is right)(…tick tick tick…) but for the time being, I hope a “Hello” shall suffice.
m e m o r y h o u s e: Here’s a mix of songs I’ve had on repeat during these rainy Spring...→
Here’s a mix of songs I’ve had on repeat during these rainy Spring days. I was very touched by the tragic story of Jackson C. Frank so this collection is more or less an extended tribute to perhaps the most tragic figure of the mid-1960s folk movement.
“Past the flannel plains and…
Daytrotter just emailed me back, agreeing that a Memoryhouse session is much needed and are now adding them to the list for booking upcoming sessions. Crying & it hasn’t even happened yet.