Description
This is weary, patient music for a world that doesn’t value either of those spirits. The instrumentation is warm and physical, invoking the worn couches and easy melodies of living room hangouts. The two voices on this record sing like they’re trying not to wake someone in the next room, but with a kind of desperate urge to continue the conversation. It feels familiar. It’s a music of accumulation, of sounds layering and overlapping, not exactly like collage, more like a quiet orchestra. It’s really about care and attention, never overwhelming or too burdened to move. There’s a lot of poetry in the decision to work like this, because the songs are also about accumulation, but the negative kind. The way your favorite bookstore got replaced by another Chase bank. The way decades of service jobs and sleeping on punk house floors ages a body. The way we all keep asking how could there even be enough people in town to justify this many pharmacies, this many gyms, this many car dealerships? Burdened, overwhelming. It’s telling that the two voices on this record – Dan/Walk Home Drunk and Eric/Dirtpath – live in different cities on different continents. These concerns are consistent, worldwide. And that can feel depressing, but it can also help us consider how far-flung our refusal could be.
