"All our yesterdays have lighted fools..."

-Macbeth

Another year, another album. This one contains the last recordings created in my old apartment, where I had lived since 2015. A lot has happened in that time. Some good things, some not. Many a bad yesterday has turned into a yester-week, month... until... they are years ago. Some lessons were learned, others remain to be tested. Some wounds heal, while others require care. I don't have anything cleaver to say about history unexamined repeating. History unexamined repeats, and repeats until the center cannot hold. Places collect ghosts like dead stink bugs behind a bookshelf, and they won't vacuum themselves up.

I thought about quoting Gaston Bachelard's The Poetics of Space for this. I thought of The Tempest, Caliban's sweet noises, and maybe writing about Derek Jarman's 1979 film adaptation filmed inside Stoneleigh Abbey. He put an island of illusions inside a half burnt building the same year Alien put a haunted house inside a spaceship. Maybe I should have quoted something from Shirley Jackson... They all felt relevant, in some way. I don't know precisely what though.

I've overthought it all, but at the end of the day this is an album about goodbyes unexpected, others overdue, and others still to be anticipated. In some ways, it is music for waiting, and how inaction is such a desolate form of goodbye.


Nothing but love
-C

P.s., Don't worry, they next album will be more upbeat.



P.p.s., I mean, probably...











P.p.p.s., And no, I really didn't mean for the vacuum bit to be a Luigi reference!