https://exileondronestreet.com Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street Wed, 10 Nov 2021 18:34:53 +0000 https://exileondronestreet.com en https://exileondronestreet.com/Music Sun, 19 Apr 2020 15:39:34 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Music MUSIC with Everything, Now! Hideout Mountain Do It On The Moon Spatially Severed Ugly Magic Bible Universe Police, Police! Sunshine Of Doom with Wooves Peep Yawn Basement Demos with Beer Live! with Miami Mice II Ice Cave https://exileondronestreet.com/Work Thu, 16 Apr 2020 14:35:29 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Work WORK Drawing on my background in writing, research, marketing, and information literacy – I work with multi-disciplinary teams and stakeholders on strategic, creative projects for clients spanning education, nonprofit, foundations, and more. See a few select project examples below, or learn more about SmallBox. EVANSVILLE VANDERBURGH PUBLIC LIBRARY (BRAND + WEB) Strategy / Project Management <img width="2880" height="1120" width_o="2880" height_o="1120" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a065cbecd769073c9d83a4f44dc8e7c6ae9a9ab7dc7060a9946149a6a55ed2ee/evpl-inverse-logo.png" data-mid="67232625" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a065cbecd769073c9d83a4f44dc8e7c6ae9a9ab7dc7060a9946149a6a55ed2ee/evpl-inverse-logo.png" /> <img width="2880" height="1120" width_o="2880" height_o="1120" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3e5680e6224a6c09b8085bf241827cc0dfeb36bfa80d327b7cf9e14f32f87232/evpl-viewfinder-elements.png" data-mid="67232767" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3e5680e6224a6c09b8085bf241827cc0dfeb36bfa80d327b7cf9e14f32f87232/evpl-viewfinder-elements.png" /> <img width="2880" height="1120" width_o="2880" height_o="1120" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/89dedeb2e33c3fa44d58cf1303b3127b64912e69934ae8546398a6cf7e3c8af6/evpl-website.png" data-mid="67232805" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/89dedeb2e33c3fa44d58cf1303b3127b64912e69934ae8546398a6cf7e3c8af6/evpl-website.png" /> <img width="710" height="480" width_o="710" height_o="480" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/2a7da5654ec21d68e7276c44dd66e73f0dfed99592b2cd3974205dc02d26e6e4/phone-read.png" data-mid="67232794" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/710/i/2a7da5654ec21d68e7276c44dd66e73f0dfed99592b2cd3974205dc02d26e6e4/phone-read.png" /> <img width="2880" height="1556" width_o="2880" height_o="1556" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3fb6016a824a3f2e71a58fdfdc8ec9491ebf78e4330e74d91bfce47575f4e66b/evpl-research-phase.png" data-mid="67337132" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/3fb6016a824a3f2e71a58fdfdc8ec9491ebf78e4330e74d91bfce47575f4e66b/evpl-research-phase.png" /> INDIANAPOLIS CLASSICAL SCHOOLS (WEB) Strategy / Project Management <img width="710" height="480" width_o="710" height_o="480" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/021ff646148b727950d39b941c2d8f67432df173aa1d1845cd9c5709922618db/ics2.png" data-mid="67574604" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/710/i/021ff646148b727950d39b941c2d8f67432df173aa1d1845cd9c5709922618db/ics2.png" /> <img width="2880" height="1120" width_o="2880" height_o="1120" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/05538a6c0bc42cf1e29d141c1b4ffc0ebe1ca96d08e22606999131cbd48eadde/herron-case-study-web-designs.png" data-mid="67574603" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/05538a6c0bc42cf1e29d141c1b4ffc0ebe1ca96d08e22606999131cbd48eadde/herron-case-study-web-designs.png" /> CONEXUSFacilitation / Workshop Strategy <img width="1250" height="833" width_o="1250" height_o="833" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/ab9c7dc3544a331c015c82d4c53c25bbdf29837c64c6fc15dc406aad86779eb5/conexus1.jpg" data-mid="67576470" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/ab9c7dc3544a331c015c82d4c53c25bbdf29837c64c6fc15dc406aad86779eb5/conexus1.jpg" /> <img width="3000" height="2000" width_o="3000" height_o="2000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/8c9d5eeed3a1969ef2bb1dce3a9ec478179830bf911db7857e48a65c5f563209/conexus2.jpg" data-mid="67576471" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/8c9d5eeed3a1969ef2bb1dce3a9ec478179830bf911db7857e48a65c5f563209/conexus2.jpg" /> https://exileondronestreet.com/Oct-2021-Bandcamp-Spins Wed, 10 Nov 2021 18:34:53 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Oct-2021-Bandcamp-Spins Oct. 2021 Bandcamp Spins Tricks and treats: plentiful tape loops, a throwback organ trio, and a full-on Sun Ra covers concept. Almost forgot about Devotion, 2018’s debut late-nite electronic slowburner LP from London’s Tirzah. Three years on, “Sink In” pushes Colourgrade into even spacier territory, a backlit, post-3-am mellow void where everything is vaguely alien except for those lush vocals.&nbsp; Ohio’s Colemine continue digging up nuggets – Seattle’s Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio play 3-piece soul jazz so solid it’ll nearly make you forget the classics. Immaculately recorded electric organ/electric gtr/drums get down for 40 minutes and then get on out – I Told You So is stacked front-to-back with burners.I was on a classic Tortoise LP binge last yr., sometime while quarantining – but failed to revisit their latest LP (2016’s The Catastrophist) until this fall, where I promptly became obsessed with its broad purview of jazz/electronic/jammy ephemera. “Gopher Island” is a nearly 8-bit mini-score that fuses a cheesy melody over an airily, driven beat. *summons new Tortoise record for 2022* Hiroshima’s Meitei came across my radar with one of my favorite 2019 records, Komachi. “Happyaku-yachō / 八百八町”, from the forthcoming&nbsp;Kofū II / 古風 II&nbsp;preserves the sample-heavy sense of mystery while pushing it toward the dancefloor. Out in December on Singapore’s KITCHEN. LABELI was a late adopter to the glitchy, late-nite soundworld of Jan Jelinek before getting lost deep inside classic LP Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records during quarantine. Gramm is his 2am club alter-ego; and Jelinek’s own imprint Faitiche has reissued the timeless groove of 1999’s Personal Rock, which opens with “legends/nugroove ™”.On the opposite end of the spectrum, Huerco S. alter-ego Pendant has a new double LP full of maximal electronic fog – To All Sides They Will Stretch Out Their Hands (via West Mineral Ltd.) is a full-frequency ambient aural blanket. “Dream Song Of The Woman”&nbsp; hints at a garbled melody and spends its duration wandering through waves. Is that a buried vocal or just a shimmering static-form?Composer Christina Vantzou issued one of my favorite records of 2020 – Multi-Natural (via Belgium’s Edições CN) mixed field recording, electronics, and some classical instrumentation to astounding effect. “Life Of A Mushroom”, from fungi-themed tape Releasing Spores for new Paris imprint Slow Moves is atmospheric, avant-garde minimalist ambient that continues to offer fractured, miniature worlds to inhabit.Chicago synth/drone maestros Bitchin Bajas continue their space-y ascendance with a concept record that makes so much sense, one wonders why it didn’t exist yesterday. Their 2017 double LP Bajas Fresh was highlighted by an interpretation of Sun Ra’s “Angels And Demons At Play”. New full-length Switched On Ra via Drag City follows that fruitful intuition across 40-odd minutes of sublimity. Bonus points for the name! Another follow-up from my 2020 list – Sofie Birch is a Copenhagen-based ambient artist who also had an excellent piano-driven piece for Longform Editions at the close of the year. “Repair Techniques” (from the LP of the same name) is a collaborative effort with Johan Carøe via Belgium’s excellent Stroom. These are spatial, organic compositions, some rhythmic, some sculptural, with a different emotional core than her solo work. A twist, but one that makes for an intriguing listen. In the mid-70’s, Cluster/Harmonia’s Hans-Joachim Roedelius found himself holed up in a room with a Farfisa organ, reel-to-reel, and nothing else. The tape ran and he recorded a wealth of iconically melodic, minimalist sketches, though Selbstportrait I wouldn’t be released till 1979. “Girlande” is nearly a platonic ideal, its glistening melody unspooling like a stream running its predetermined course. Hamburg’s Bureau B has reissued and repressed this out-of-time classic – dip in and check out.Mining a similar vein, Estonian-based Nikolaienko manipulates tape loops to dreamy effect – stepping through Roedelius’s looking glass. Melodies wobble and warp, and occasionally wash out or transfigure completely...sometimes, without realizing anything has changed. It’s a rabbit-and-hat moment; except both rabbit and hat are soothing tape hiss. “Ambianta I” is off this year’s Rings, another Faitiche release. https://exileondronestreet.com/Sept-2021-Bandcamp-Spins Sun, 03 Oct 2021 21:49:18 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Sept-2021-Bandcamp-Spins Sept. 2021 Bandcamp Spins Late-night bleary jazz vibes to Swiss electro-funk and most points in-between. Efficient Space, Australian label home to one of my favorite reissues (Steve Hiett’s humid, languorous take on electric blooze) and favorite contemporary electronic LPs (Wilson Tanner’s half-scrambled, half-plaintive II), presents another reissue, 1986’s airy, jazz-adjacent self-titled from Singing Dust. Got tipped to instrumental and space-y funk/studio psych Swiss outfit L’Eclair via label Bongo Joe (who released an excellent ‘80s Spanish ambient comp last yr). Tokyo electronic trio UNKNOWN ME are Yakenohara, P-RUFF, H. Takahashi, and Osawa Yudai (Takahashi’s plant music LP Sonne und Wasser is v v good; hat-tip Commend). Jim O’Rourke and foodman guest. Sam Gendel is a session saxophone player out of the LA scene. Fresh Bread collects a mammoth set of studio outtakes and spare parts. Find him also in a starring role on Blake Mills &amp; Pino Palladino’s Notes With Attachments LP via Impulse! And both Sam Gendel / Sam Wilkes LPs on Leaving are well worth yr time. Saw NOMO in Bloomington with a handful of people in the mid-aughts – just an excellent show (2 drummers!) in a too-big venue during the student-less summer. “New Song” is from their 2006 LP New Tones on Ubiquity. Ripe for reevaluation – this grooves. Berlin electronic purveyors experiences ltd. released my favorite LP of 2020 courtesy Ulla – via London, the new LP from&nbsp;mu tate edges more toward the float tank dub of L0G than Ulla’s ASMR-adjacent glitch. There are glimpses of dancefloor before resubmerging. Also out on California all-genre LEAVING is LA-based&nbsp;Lionmilk’s solo+soothing electric piano tape from this Winter, originally dropped in friend’s mailboxes. A full-band live double LP is imminent... UK-based Métron (ft. favorites 7F0 and Meitei) released the new LP from Li Yilei&nbsp;之 / OF. “WEI / 未“ is pointillist &amp; melodic electronic built on a bed of birdsong field recording. Allen aka Hiway Ricky played the new Sam Prekop (Sea &amp; Cake) LP for me (despite me forgetting to listen to it) on the nicest stereo I’ve ever encountered. He described the warm+healing properties of Prekop’s meandering synth+drum machine tone poems and, well...he was spot on. Suemori (aka Hoshina Anniversary) fries traditional instrumentation and vocals into fused electronic forms. This is dance? Out this year on Amsterdam’s / Elena Colombi’s Osàre! Editions. Ex-Yellow Swan noise impresario Pete Swanson’s label Freedom To Spend has released a handful of mind-openers in the recent past (Pep Llopis, Ursula K. LeGuin, Tiziano Popoli). UMAN - a French sibling duo - is no exception. With painfully-1992 album art, this is some 3rd-eye level New Age that avoids token cheesy moments. Another low-country jam that floated by – Belgian trio&nbsp;Ignatz &amp; De Stervende Honde play rambling, minor-key choogle. Think a sunrise Velvets set or the insular yang to Endless Boogie’s blaring yin. A gentle ripper to close this playlist courtesy Antwerp’s Ultra Eczema. https://exileondronestreet.com/Sept-Oct-Bandcamp-Spins Sun, 15 Nov 2020 20:58:27 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Sept-Oct-Bandcamp-Spins Sept. + Oct. 2020 Bandcamp Spins Another heavily ambient couple months of listening – can’t imagine what was going on in the world that necessitated an aural blanket most days.A current of static/grain weaves through many of these, from Carlo Giustini’s bleary, nostalgic synths, to Masayoshi Fujita + Jan Jelinek’s heady brew of electronics and vibraphone that seem to be talking past each other.&nbsp; There is the occasional surfacing for breath. Some dark (Nihiloxica’s polyrhythmic terror), some fun (Liquid’s uncut, scuzzy power-pop gem), and one that meets perfectly in the middle to close out the mix (Kelly Lee Owens’s “L.I.N.E.” is a soft-focus pop hit).&nbsp;As always: if you like what you hear, consider tossing the artists some coin. And if you wanna shop local or support a small business, why not call&nbsp;LUNA Music for all your wax needs (contactless pickup and mailorder to anywhere in the world). ✌️️ https://exileondronestreet.com/August-2020-Bandcamp-Spins Mon, 07 Sep 2020 22:02:24 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/August-2020-Bandcamp-Spins August 2020 Bandcamp Spins This past month was fried – the peak of Indiana humidity and 90-degree days, served with a combo of simmering COVID-tension and Gaslighters’ Stew, meant that mostly I needed cool sounds dripping softly into my ears. Highlights? Hirotaka Shirotsubaki’s bleary, extended tones over a bed of infinite fuzz will give you an ASMR reaction; Unknown Mobile’s docile Balearic synths are your brain in a hammock; Roméo Poirier’s Jazz-redux gently-chopped loops will leave you in a state of blippy bliss. Reminder that musicians need your support more than ever, with combined blow of lack of streaming revenue and the cancellation of all tours. Like something you hear? Consider buying the track (or full album!) via Bandcamp below.&nbsp;Want it on vinyl? Give LUNA Music a ring and we’d be happy to help you find a copy, order &amp; ship, or hold for contactless local pick-up. ✌️️ https://exileondronestreet.com/July-2020-Bandcamp-Spins Sun, 09 Aug 2020 23:22:47 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/July-2020-Bandcamp-Spins July 2020 Bandcamp Spins Bandcamp is an embarrassment of riches. Thanks to buymusic.club, now you can listen to a track from every new-to-me album I listened to during July. Like something you hear? Consider purchasing to support artists &amp; labels who continue to suffer financially. With the elimination of touring revenue, loss of retail sales, and virtually no compensation from Spotify and other streaming “partners”&nbsp; who only exists to funnel profit to the investor class – it is more difficult than ever to be a musician without a trustfund. Want it on wax? Give LUNA Music a buzz and we’d be happy to order &amp; ship, or hold for contactless curbside pick-up.&nbsp;✌️️ https://exileondronestreet.com/My-Favorite-New-Records-of-2019 Wed, 13 May 2020 13:22:38 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/My-Favorite-New-Records-of-2019 My Favorite New Records of 2019 I spent 80% of my time in 2019 listening to ambient or electronic music – a balm from the work-heavy, travel-anxiety, shit-news year that was. Via headphones or my turntable, ambient records (and especially, the glut of Japanese 'environmental music' that was reissued) offered a respite from a world that was often almost too much–too noisy–to bear. My other 2019 obsession were the fantastic sounding &amp; much needed reissue of Stereolab's first seven LPs, which chart a course from motorik-niks apeing NEU! to the full-on sound design lounge-prog of Sound-Dust and Margerine Eclipse. Nearly 30 years on from their debut, they still manage to sound incredibly fresh, and (as the liner notes prove) their dedication to song and sound-craft reward repeated listening. A superfan nerd moment – I happened to be in my inbox when each release was announced and hit the online shop, thus I ended up with limited versions that included numbered obi strips made from master tape remnants. In addition, Luis and Allen (LUNA crew) and I made the pilgrimage to Detroit to see them live for the first time. In good spirits, they did not disappoint as they hopped around their catalog. Andy on drums was incredibly impressive, driving each song dynamically with precise, fluid playing. Oh...and Bitchin' Bajas opened! Anyways, I ramble. Onto 2019 releases! 10. The Comet Is Coming – Trust In The Lifeforce Of The Deep Mystery (Impulse) <img width="1400" height="1400" width_o="1400" height_o="1400" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/c6e51c186a20406ec1b7f9f99eb150d88a94fcebde5d09f1cfea90bbb59a1978/comet-is-coming.jpg" data-mid="70840399" border="0" data-scale="38" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/c6e51c186a20406ec1b7f9f99eb150d88a94fcebde5d09f1cfea90bbb59a1978/comet-is-coming.jpg" /> Widescreen, Floyd-ian prog-jazz courtesy this huge-sounding London three-piece fronted by saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings (Sons of Kemet, Shabaka and the Ancestors). His most accessible (read: "least jazz") outfit manages to walk the tightrope of sounding serious without verging into overblown, a testament to the full textures and tones they're able to wring out of brass, synth, and drums. As a bonus, the spoken word tracks here highlight instead of detract.Stream (sorry, no Bandcamp!) Buy vinyl from Impulse Bandcamp (other releases!) Shabaka Hutchings9. Laurel Halo – DJ-Kicks (!K7) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/2386adc23b27b8d6faa3602a93e292293eaee9bed7a2b3db89a36206634df96b/dj-kicks.jpg" data-mid="70842346" border="0" data-scale="38" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/2386adc23b27b8d6faa3602a93e292293eaee9bed7a2b3db89a36206634df96b/dj-kicks.jpg" /> While technically a compilation, Laurel Halo's contribution to the longstanding DJ-Kicks series stood out as both mix and artistic achievement. Spare, focused, and meticulously constructed – the mood here is oppressive and lushly industrial with decaying tones, subdermal bass, and the occasional vocal loop that comes off as a broken PA system or a dystopian AI. Insidious, pneumatic beats and metallic tones throughout give the impression that you're wandering through impeccable detritus, a junkyard of the future. Emerge purified...or don't emerge at all.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyLaurel Halo 8. Moodymann – Sinner (KDJ Records) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/c36b529bfd6c0594bd500c6c8889cd07d798f4433ae3c100b4cb119b9026248b/moodymann.jpeg" data-mid="70843614" border="0" data-scale="38" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/c36b529bfd6c0594bd500c6c8889cd07d798f4433ae3c100b4cb119b9026248b/moodymann.jpeg" />Reclusive house/electronic producer returns with a righteous mix of overnight-drive, funk-inflected dancefloor jams. In lesser hands, these might turn out rote – but the craftsmanship here (beats weaving in-and-out of the mix, gorgeous textures) mix with off-the-cuff vocal takes that result in a record that reveals itself with each additional listen. At times jazzy, but taking cues from soul, classic r'n'b, even garage rock...Sinner is instantly recognizable but never borders on pastiche. This is electronic music, but it comes across as incredibly warm and dedicated to the Groove.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyMoodymann 7. Modern Nature – How To Live (Bella Union)<img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7fef54617e4e80f25e9b42b080ed54ce66a3681dab819bf384e2e80e6ce4dc95/modern-nature.jpeg" data-mid="70844010" border="0" data-scale="39" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/7fef54617e4e80f25e9b42b080ed54ce66a3681dab819bf384e2e80e6ce4dc95/modern-nature.jpeg" />Restrained, painterly, pastoral kraut courtesy ex-Ultimate Painting guitarist Jack Cooper and Woods' drummer Aaron Nevue (also featured later on this list via Prpl Mtns). How To Live is exceedingly mellow but dry sound creates fragile soundscapes that feel near-ephemeral – like building songs out of straw. We could do with more carefully considered, near-ornate pop in its own lane.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyBella Union 6. Meitei – Komachi (Métron) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/f38cd3098ed6a31ce69e9c2f91a5febb961f58d5f0abbcc338f1d2ef25e39fcd/meitei.jpeg" data-mid="70844253" border="0" data-scale="38" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/f38cd3098ed6a31ce69e9c2f91a5febb961f58d5f0abbcc338f1d2ef25e39fcd/meitei.jpeg" />Opening with a reverb-distant piano over record static, plonking indeterminate percussion, and water noises – Komachi inhabits a storybook/music-box vibe from its first seconds, an ultimately electronic record that is constructed to feel anything but. Owing a debt to classic Japanese minimalist and environmental ambient records, Meitei constructs detailed, melodic miniatures that, when sequenced, form a wordless narrative. The layering here is less sparse than pure minimalism, and percussive elements provide the gentle clockwork that moves the "story" forward. Press play for a life-changing placid trip.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyMeitei 5. Nilüfer Yanya – Miss Universe (ATO) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/debc8b3a2bc5f7f24f3308ab5ba3216cd87ea126a839789cc1ea39647f21844f/nilufer-yanya.jpeg" data-mid="70845134" border="0" data-scale="39" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/debc8b3a2bc5f7f24f3308ab5ba3216cd87ea126a839789cc1ea39647f21844f/nilufer-yanya.jpeg" /> Few lead-off singles in the past decade are as electric as "In Your Head", which melds 90's/aught's rock revivalism with crisp 2019 production and half-honeyed, half-howled vocals that are equally yearning and tossed-off. Despite the forced interludes, the remainder blends blue-eyed soul, electro, and distorted guitars to great effect. Over it all, Yanya's vocals shapeshift from a forceful alto to a breathy upper register. It's a forward-looking throwback that makes you wonder where she'll go next. Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyNilüfer Yanya 4. Wilson Tanner – II (Efficient Space) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/55ebd250e8af42813296809d3412c68a8ad7528e7a07403fc5cec58b3d44ab33/wilson-tanner.jpeg" data-mid="70845896" border="0" data-scale="39" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/55ebd250e8af42813296809d3412c68a8ad7528e7a07403fc5cec58b3d44ab33/wilson-tanner.jpeg" />Context is a powerful ingredient – the eponymous Wilson and Tanner recorded this slippery modern ambient record aboard an aged riverboat. While field samples are woven into a track here and there, this conceit is felt more in their sense of restraint, and aesthetic abandon. The tracks here range from plaintive, beatific chordal exercises to "Killcord Pts I-III", which is a claustrophobic 12-minutes of interpolated rhythms and synths forced together nearly against their will. And yet, they rarely end where they begin – a testament to the boat, perhaps, or a focus on letting go. Either way, an endlessly rewarding listen that ... doesn't really sound like anything else.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyEfficient Space3. Vanishing Twin – The Age of Immunology (Fire) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/14fcf716823e6cf575f60a711b4b71c427273565d63c78497b457b091ed99bcb/vanishing-twin.jpeg" data-mid="70846462" border="0" data-scale="41" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/14fcf716823e6cf575f60a711b4b71c427273565d63c78497b457b091ed99bcb/vanishing-twin.jpeg" />Surface-level comparisons to Broadcast (retro rhythms and natural sense of dread) and Stereolab (female-fronted, groove-oriented, kraut-adjacent) are apt – though Vanishing Twin transcend influences here and emerge with their own heady brew. I hear dub in the meticulous mixing, sound design, and mysterious textures – not to mention the completely killer rhythm section. God – I'd be remiss not to mention that underneath it all are damn good songs with thoughtful lyrics that manage to toe psych tropes without seeming like a genre exercise. The string arrangements? A blessing. If Vanishing Twin is a cult, sign me up.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyVanishing Twin 2. Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains (Drag City) <img width="1200" height="1200" width_o="1200" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/b25f6884142309796b32201a65003362e24d5e185e324de1bcba9d0fb4ec9e24/purple-mountains.jpeg" data-mid="70846577" border="0" data-scale="41" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/b25f6884142309796b32201a65003362e24d5e185e324de1bcba9d0fb4ec9e24/purple-mountains.jpeg" />It took 6 months away from this record to go back – like looking at a house that burnt down, mementos still amongst the ash on the floor. (I wrote previously about David Berman's passing here.)To the point – the self-effacing country-cum-new-wave of Side A is so perfect it hurts still to think about a world without our trusted narrator, who kicks shit off with the preeminent quatrain of the century:"Well I don't like talkin' to myself /But someone's got to say it, hell /I mean things have not been goin' well /I think I might've finally fucked myself..."Rest easy, DCBStream/Buy from BandcampSpotifySilver Jews at Drag City1. Suso Saiz – Nothing Is Objective (Music From Memory) <img width="700" height="700" width_o="700" height_o="700" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/66e075a5d45b46be8538a4abc42694e3819d496471c88737ee6c9bf6b6812ebb/suso-saiz.png" data-mid="70846795" border="0" data-scale="44" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/700/i/66e075a5d45b46be8538a4abc42694e3819d496471c88737ee6c9bf6b6812ebb/suso-saiz.png" />Evocative, melancholy, and seeming to exist in its own sound universe, Nothing Is Objective was a puzzle I couldn't crack and kept revisiting. Rather than gradually revealing itself, the record begins by throwing the listener into a cyclical guitar-and-synth melody while electronic textures whirl at random. That sense of surprise is retained throughout, whether in the abstract minimalism of "Mexican Bells (for Jorge Reyes)" ominous mixture of a stark loop and neighborhood field recording, or the fractured juxtaposition of fret noise and evening-star pads in "Scrub Your Ego". There's playfulness here, draped in an expansive sense of wonder and embrace of the unknown. All you can do is close your eyes and step off the ledge.Stream/Buy from BandcampSpotifyMusic From Memory https://exileondronestreet.com/EuroVelo-6-Vienna-to-Bratislava Mon, 13 Apr 2020 19:30:51 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/EuroVelo-6-Vienna-to-Bratislava EuroVelo #6: Vienna to Bratislava Maybe a good place to start would be the night before. Yeah, I'd crossed the Atlantic with an accent-so-thick-I-couldn't-understand-a-word Irishman who couldn't turn off the flashlight on his new iPhone and soon after, fell asleep snoring on my shoulder. Made it to sunny Vienna, basked in the park, pounded some train station currywurst, and passed out after a rauchbier and schnitzel. But an hour after Ben arrived, the weather turned (it would drop 30 degrees in 24 hours) and a bit of dread set in before we even got on a bike. Had I convinced my friends to Do A Thing; only to have weather bite us in the ass? How would everyone fare if we had steady rain, 40-degree temps, and gusty wind for an entire week? I knew how unpleasant it was to commute 2 miles to work in that shit, and I expended way too much logical thinking trying to smart my way out of nature. Nature wasn't having it. I was wigging – a bit – after cold and gray and rain had driven us from the Museum Quarter back to a pre-dinner nap zone in the hotel, I scoured forecasts and figured the only thing that'd prevent a mutiny was taking an off-day on day two – even though we'd already spent our other off-day as an extra in Vienna (which was the right decision, especially with the excellent late night spent at Jazzland). <img width="3024" height="4032" width_o="3024" height_o="4032" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/eef93fcfafabd3e075074e7ace0acd5f383c7f0516040b212831cec6fd1a0792/jazzland.png" data-mid="66958728" border="0" data-scale="60" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/eef93fcfafabd3e075074e7ace0acd5f383c7f0516040b212831cec6fd1a0792/jazzland.png" /> (Pre-ride in Jazzland's many-hundred-year-old cellar.Right after this, a slide flute solo blew my mind, no foolin'.) The mania passed – Tyler was able to book a second night at the hostel in Bratislava, and the dudes didn't seem as anxious as I, so I finally took their queue and mellowed. Assisted by pints and piping hot goulash down the block at the local watering hole, where we watched the world's sleepiest dog pass out in 8 different formations while his owner &amp; friend absconded for an equal amount of smoke breaks. Back at the hotel, we holed up in the corner nook, me perched in the window, sucking room temperature bottles of lager and listening to our friends' music on cell phones. I was still a bit nervous, but the omens seemed to have turned for the better.Though this would be our longest ride, we couldn't pick up the bikes till 10, so we woke up early to fully pack, then walking to breakfast at nearby Café Sperl – pots of Viennese coffee service with rolls, butter, and jam – the ornate interior full of billiards and periodicals-on-rails almost made me take up rolling cigarettes and arguing philosophy. The swift servers, tall ceilings, wood paneling, and quiet bustle made it a place where you wanted to stay and read for hours. But we had miles to ride! <img width="1500" height="566" width_o="1500" height_o="566" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e0c3a6b686664df922335ba6801db61020eaf847c8986d9d6e8bd2a9195a79ec/hotel-view.png" data-mid="66959399" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e0c3a6b686664df922335ba6801db61020eaf847c8986d9d6e8bd2a9195a79ec/hotel-view.png" />(The view from the hotel, just before loading up.A couple little kids on scooters definitely blazed past us whilewe struggled to get used to the gravity of fully loaded touring bikes.) We walked next to Pedal Power to snag the bikes – getting some efficient tips from the nice dudes at the shop, rolling through a quick test ride, and signing approximately 8 different forms. From here, another walk back a mile to the hotel to load up and check out. Still getting used to our gear, and balancing it on the racks, this takes a minute, and we swing through a bougie grocery for sandwiches and fruit before finally walking+riding bikes across the Donaukanal (not the river!) around noon.The first stretch was a damp (from 2 days of rain), tree-lined, flowering road through the Prater – a large park that had a few joggers and dog-walkers out mid-day on a Monday. A delicate whippet wore a jacket and trotted beneath the giant bridge that emerged from the trees – his elegant owner, and older woman, turning around, while I made the first of many GPS gaffes riding past and then back to the bridge, where we passed a biker sleeping under the overhang, and crossed the expanse of the Danube via a bike-only bridge underhang. I see you, Austrian infrastructure, and I like what I'm seeing. <img width="3387" height="2430" width_o="3387" height_o="2430" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/82492c7ad51be08d2a30f1d26d37f7de46ba91131d0e5448f7d4326614e49aba/danube-graffiti.png" data-mid="66934042" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/82492c7ad51be08d2a30f1d26d37f7de46ba91131d0e5448f7d4326614e49aba/danube-graffiti.png" /> (Before crossing the Danube. Vienna graffiti was a highlight of walking around the city.)The first ten or so miles was mostly silent along a broad path in view of the river. We passed an occasional fitness-focused runner or biker, and a grubbier figure pulling a bike trailer (which had a baguette hanging out) who was fishing the choppy waters. The paths took us past multiple mothballed cafés (one cheesily Jamaican themed; another closed but quietly playing creepy piano music while a single door stood ajar...), where we got the first sense that we might be undertaking this thing a bit early.Temperatures hovered near 50, and without much wind, it was pleasant once you worked up a sweat. Near a railyard, I gaffed again and took us down the incorrect divergent path...probably 2.5 miles down till it dead-ended on a pier where river barges were tied up. We pedaled back and took the high path across the railyard, crossing a road to ride a narrow gravel spit next to a road trafficked by tanker trucks rumbling into a refinery, the air thick with heavy metals and petroleum; the three of us all reminiscing about the smell of the Continental Steel mill, defunct from our Kokomo childhood but overly ripe with metallic fumes until it was declared an EPA Superfund site and bulldozed. (Riding down what looked to be a popular path in the summer.Our timing was off – not a single trailside joint was open for a Radler,although one was piping out hella creepy circus music while open doorsflapped in the wind...)As the industrial trail ended, we passed two touring bikes headed West – little did we know we'd only see 2 more bikers for the next 30+ miles. At this point, we ascended a river-dike path that ran through national park &amp; forestland in Lower Austria. Completely absent of people, the freshly paved path was extraordinarily silent, except for birdsong in the trees that, for the most part, blocked our view of the river. In the hazy distance, it seemed that we could see the water glimmering, and we rode for hours in its direction, only pausing to pass the occasional construction crew who were working on seasonal improvements to the path. One required us to "walk" our bikes down a steep hill – pro-tip: walking a fully loaded touring bike down a steep hill is a fool's errand. Most of us ended up bloodied from half-sliding, half-running, half-tripping down the embankment, and then at the trail interruption, we were invisible to the workers. Eventually, we figured out we had to trek a half-mile into the wood, popping out on a country lane that took us back to the river-dike path. For ten minutes or so after this, silently enjoying the birdsong, the sun came out and it was almost warm. My ass was hurting already, which in hindsight (pun intended) was perhaps an omen that the day was about to turn. The path continued on, but the fresh pavement ended abruptly by a defunct rest area, and the dike path turned to gravel. Normally, this would've been pleasant, but a month of rain had rendered it loamy like a sandbank crusted with gravel that gave your bike tire purchase. The actual bad omen was, 10 miles from any other human, and somewhat near a moss-covered fifth wheel tucked into the woods next to a stable and small pasture with a few longhorn cattle, we passed a woman pushing a large, black stroller. A mile later, we all confirmed that its sunshade was fully extended such that none of us had seen or perceived a child's presence. Most certainly this was a Danube witch – or, we were suffering the effects of intense hot dog consumption whilst in Vienna, only now suffering the ill visions of withdrawal. The path continued – and continued – river mostly blocked by a span of trees that gave glimpses of the wind-blown surface, the other side alternating national forest and meadow, just dense enough to be creepy. We must've gone a dozen miles without seeing a soul – and in fact, what appeared to be a bend in the river in front of us for several hours turned out to be a stony bluff. <img width="1600" height="1200" width_o="1600" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/f43af318a6621da1308756a17aea134b20576a589a2853ede0c9693c22b0dc02/eurovelo-bluff.JPG" data-mid="66947214" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/f43af318a6621da1308756a17aea134b20576a589a2853ede0c9693c22b0dc02/eurovelo-bluff.JPG" />(Yep, that bluff, visible for miles...looked like the surface of the river. Look, I wasn't *that* hungover, and my blood sugar was really low from only eating bootleg eastern euro candy and bougie prepackaged sandwich ...it really did!) At the same time, the wind began to howl, gusting so hard diagonally across the path that several times I had to plant my foot in the dirt shoulder to keep from tipping over. Meanwhile, the paved path ended and the river dike continued on a small-graveled, grass-median'd path that was extra soggy from a month of rain. It was like riding on sand. Several times I looked behind me, after feeling like I'd ridden ten minutes into cold oatmeal, and Ben &amp; Tyler emerged around a bend fighting the wind. The two dike paths diverged nearly a quarter-mile apart here, a sunken median in-between. A ruddy Austrian flagged us down from a half-mile away, only to tell us, "American? Yes. These paths not for bikes. Go back to road." We ignored him, to his chagrin, and continued our futile pedal into the wind's teeth. A figure in the distance eventually drew closer, then pulled off to the shoulder. On two bikes loaded with four saddlebags each, and tent gear balanced on each rack, we passed an arguing couple with Australian accents debating angrily whether to camp in the median or head away from the river in search of an inn. Their riding speed was somehow beneath our own, though, so we passed them with a polite nod and despite an hour delay at the bridge, didn't see them again. I can only assume they murdered each other crossing the median...or found a pension. Finally abreast of the rocky outcrop that now hovered above the river, we needed to cross the bridge (according to the GPS) to reach Hainburg, the Austrian town nestled between said outcrop and the Danube. Looking into the overgrown riverbank, there didn't seem to be a path up to the bridge running at least 50 feet above our heads. As the energetic one, I volunteered to cross the median via a circuitious, U-shaped path that must've ran a half-mile curve between dikes. Across the median, the freshly paved dike had a small stair up to the bridge that was blocked by multiple guardrails and jerry-rigged plywood barriers with NO ACCESS warning signs, all overgrown with weeds and trashed with highway detritus. It seemed as though we were too early – that this would likely be opened during peak summer, but for now was off-limits. After calling Ben's cell phone but unable to be heard due to high winds, I rode the half-mile back across the dike, feeling like I was the scout sent ahead. We studied the GPS and it looked like the next river crossing ...was nonexistent. Otherwise, we'd have to detour miles down country roads, enter Slovakia, and make our way to Bratislava – the route, if it even existed, was the opposite of direct. Not ideal. The wind continued to intensify, with a newfound cold edge and the occasional pebble of cold rain, and dark clouds now hovered menacingly on the horizon. <img width="1200" height="1600" width_o="1200" height_o="1600" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/36a6dde812b233fb3d3493d613d5333df1b9261424d98f5df6c758c6632e1a29/eurovelo-danube-bridge.JPG" data-mid="66947389" border="0" data-scale="52" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/36a6dde812b233fb3d3493d613d5333df1b9261424d98f5df6c758c6632e1a29/eurovelo-danube-bridge.JPG" />(Porting bikes up to this bridge was probably physicallythe most difficult part of the entire trip. On the last hill, Ben and I gripped my doubly-loaded bike–yep, my idea to frontloada backpacking trip with a bike tour...–and heaved the last 10 feet up,shoes slipping on the muddy embankment while I grabbed a woodenbarrier for purchase. After steadying myself, I noticed that the sharp-endof rusted nails protruded every 2 feet out of the barrier. Though I'd grabbed it blindly while slipping, I managed not to impale myself and incur a tetanusshot in Slovakia. Whew.) The group mood was low, and exhaustion was setting in. We rode across the median and, eyeing the blocked stair, began porting our bikes, full up with gear, up the muddy, overgrown hill, poison ivy and warning signs be damned. Turns out that carrying fully-loaded touring bikes up a muddy hill is a fucking workout. Not only were my shins bloodied, but at some point, we had to two-man every bike under a crudely-nailed barrier to access the bridge's bike-lane (thank you, EU infrastructure). Soaked in sweat, bloody, grass-stained, freezing, and anxious from dealing with the first day of normal touring shenanigans, we crossed the fuckin' bridge, victorious, pumping fists with adrenaline found from pedaling on pavement instead of wet gravel. The path into Hainburg was near bucolic (not to mention, shielded from the winds!) – the bridge leading down to some riverside marshy farmland, green and redolent with the recent heavy rain, which followed single-lane roads (flat! firm!) into the walled town, where we skirted a river cruise picking up vested, older Austrians before heading down a gravel farming lane. Spirits were high–so high that we cursed the God of Wind (Windseidon, obviously)! The fields opened up and we could see, in the distance, a mass of residential towers that we thought were the bloc-style Communist apartments of Bratislava. The end was in sight. <img width="1600" height="1200" width_o="1600" height_o="1200" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/d6bae55ff2679f8ff2b8d22f095654ee15bfcd0dc077413b404a833f450caa82/eurovelo-lonely-tree.JPG" data-mid="66947545" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/d6bae55ff2679f8ff2b8d22f095654ee15bfcd0dc077413b404a833f450caa82/eurovelo-lonely-tree.JPG" />(Riding down a single-lane farming road just before leaving Austria. Right before shit turned atrocious and we almost found outwhat the laws on international murder were.) The gravel lane eventually turned into a cobblestone path, then bike lane that merged onto a stressful 2-lane road that would take us across the border into Slovakia. Not only was traffic heavy, but the wind was back with a vengeance, not to mention a cold, wet edge, and ominously black clouds hovered in the distance above Bratislava. Occasional spats of rain slapped my helmet, and my quads, 45 miles in, threatened to seize up from the suddenly frozen winds.Crossing the border into Slovakia, the path veered to a wide bike trail astride a roaring 6-lane highway. The traffic noise, auto detritus, road debris, and complete lack of people minus a few hardcore joggers made everything seem more gritty. We passed behind a shuttered border station and abandoned roadside casino, where we paused to adjust saddlebags and hide from the wind for a moment. Silent minus cursing and breathing for the last couple rough miles, Tyler flatly stated, "Well, Drew, you have two options. I'm going to murder you behind this roadside casino – or I'm going to lay down here and die, in which case, please tell Pamela I love her." <img width="750" height="1000" width_o="750" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e30ecb18912b448708c357b3642500e21dd0abe7356de212ae407d10a9b6d803/bratislava.png" data-mid="67052542" border="0" data-scale="61" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/750/i/e30ecb18912b448708c357b3642500e21dd0abe7356de212ae407d10a9b6d803/bratislava.png" />(Entering the cold streets of Bratislava's old city.Not cold enough, however, not to admire the fantasticstone mosaic walkway that made up this plaza ringedby bars and restaurants, terminating at the Slovak National Theater.)He did not appear to be joking, but soon enough, we rode on, passing beneath the expressway, ending up beneath the passenger bridge to the city. Due to construction, we walked bikes up the ramp and across the Danube, depositing ourselves smack in the middle of Bratislava's old city. From here, the weather continued to get worse, the rain now falling intermittently – but we still had an awkward 15-minute walk to the hostel, down narrow sidewalks and cobbled streets, soaked in rain and sweat and grime.But there it was, just as dusk fell – an American Blues Rock themed hostel, tucked in a small brutalist block on a 4-lane road with streetcars and a Tesco. Never felt so good to roll into a place that, gratuitously, had the vibe of a YMCA with skimpier towels but beanbags and a small, cozy bar. Ben and I secured the bikes to an iron door leading to the basement laundry while Tyler checked us in. After passing the passport checks, we plopped at the bar and immediately pounded two 75-cent beers.<img width="750" height="1000" width_o="750" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/84b78a7fb47a24ec666862e01873498a5bf7eb13698d660aeff0988cca84a935/next-to-hostel.png" data-mid="67053287" border="0" data-scale="64" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/750/i/84b78a7fb47a24ec666862e01873498a5bf7eb13698d660aeff0988cca84a935/next-to-hostel.png" />(This isn't the hostel, but was the view from my hot bun of an empty hotel across the street. There was a club called&nbsp;LUNAbar at ground level, which seemed like a positive omen. Also, Tesco carried room temperature corn pizza in the bakery case. Word to the wise.)Nothing had ever tasted better. Despite the near-mutiny in the last hour, as the pils went down and our asses (mine felt aflame) melded with the barstools – spirits returned. We lived. We rode 50 miles, in 20% terrible / 60% not good / 20% decent conditions, and made it through. Backslapping commenced, and after the 2nd beer slid down, headed upstairs to peel off bibs and grab a pre-dinner shower. <img width="750" height="1000" width_o="750" height_o="1000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/af62720285a70de53ed302ba0523584ec818ca75536b554997eda5700df724b8/hostel-beers.png" data-mid="67053443" border="0" data-scale="59" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/750/i/af62720285a70de53ed302ba0523584ec818ca75536b554997eda5700df724b8/hostel-beers.png" />(These men almost murdered me.I can promise that laughter rang out soon afte this photo, depicting our mutual rise out of a nadir, was taken.) https://exileondronestreet.com/Not-Much-Water-Comin-Over-The-Hill Mon, 13 Apr 2020 19:30:51 +0000 Drew DeBoy | Exile on Drone Street https://exileondronestreet.com/Not-Much-Water-Comin-Over-The-Hill NOT MUCH WATER COMIN’ OVER THE HILL <img width="1192" height="944" width_o="1192" height_o="944" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a1ce1138eb05f489bbb3eddd54986ee3d0da678d48a723a018c6ecc0d4445e0d/berman.png" data-mid="67103562" border="0" data-scale="70" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a1ce1138eb05f489bbb3eddd54986ee3d0da678d48a723a018c6ecc0d4445e0d/berman.png" /> (David Berman, courtesy Drag City records.) IDavid Berman passed yesterday at 52 – if you don't know who he is, imagine a richer baritone-d, off-kilter Leonard Cohen who softened his all-encompassing darkness with acid-country wit. Imagine Leonard disappeared near the height of his powers, occasionally sighted in the Internet's bowels, only to reappear after a decade with arguably the best record of his career and a slew of self-effacing, brutally honest interviews – only to pass away less than a week before hitting the road for his first performances in 10+ years.I have to use a terrible comparison of two completely different artist in a weak attempt to express the simple fact – Berman had no peers. Very few songwriters of his (my? our? I'm 17 years younger, but grew up playing with many bands who out-aged us by a decade) generation can measure up – and certainly, his style and wordplay made him singular, even amongst aging indie demigods whose very existence in 2019 are challenged by the realities of the music industry. "Icon" doesn't feel right, but good friend Pete said it best today: "I've never read so many eulogies."To hear him was to love him – to know him. Probably why I left a bar record night yesterday to go cry quietly in my car, feeling exactly like and completely different from the 19-year-old who did the same in his dorm after Elliott Smith. Maybe it's the additional generation that's passed since then, or just 16 years of sleeping, driving, drinking, and worrying – all that living formed callouses that yesterday's news sloughed straight through. II Vienna, Austria has an amazing fast, modern train whose terminal is just down a few escalators from the international airport – for 10 euro or so, you can jet right to the city center on one of the smoothest, quietest, most comfortable airport transit systems I've ever ridden on. In May, Tyler and I flew in together and had settled into said train, when I connected to WiFi to get that first news drip after hours spent on international flights. In a tumultuous spring, I had publically asked for – then received! – news of a new Bill Callahan record. Thought I'd try my manifestation luck again in April by asking the Gods for Dave Berman to return. The first thing I saw upon turning on my phone was the Purple Mountains news. I'd done it! Manifested another record out of the ether – I put my phone in Tyler's face, we high-fived, then bounded out of the train into a sunny Vienna, late afternoon, basking in the Stadtpark while watching toddlers scoot over a pedestrian bridge and summer revelers sip wine and chat in earshot of a quiet city stream. 2019 was looking up, ripe with the return of possibility – right as we overcame the bland vagaries of adulthood to take a group ride down the Danube. III It's Spring 2006 and Everything, Now! is touring in a disused airport shuttle bus with handicap lift built into the rear door – most of us are in school at Ball State, so we've called the tour SPRING BAKED. Not only is the band a 6-piece at this point, but we've also got two good friends and roommates along for the ride. It's basically a rolling party bus – one overnight drive, I hear screaming and nervous laughter and it's because one of the guitarists is pissing out the window while driving through Georgia's foothills so fast that the pee is just streaming back the side of the bus in warm rivulets, losing additional flow in each gap between the cheap sliding windows like a leaky irrigation channel. At the close of this tour, we made a 2-night stop in Athens, GA (our lead singer/songwriter's hometown) to play one of our favorite DIY spots – a multi-story-tall basement set into a hillside beneath street-level commercial storefronts. Because it was a weekend, the show was scheduled early-ish, 7pm, so as not to compete with all the other venues in town. <img width="604" height="409" width_o="604" height_o="409" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/3b4c938029202c826fe7a12846e19ac3451cc5f9c417111c76a705f00beebba5/en-2006.jpg" data-mid="67104291" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/604/i/3b4c938029202c826fe7a12846e19ac3451cc5f9c417111c76a705f00beebba5/en-2006.jpg" /> (Everything, Now! circa Spring 2006, on a beach in St. Pete, FL.) We'd begun making friends in Nashville with a bunch of angel-voiced, bearded dudes who played multiple instruments and had a shit-ton of great rock-n-roll bands: Hands Down Eugene, The Carter Administration, and some others I can't remember. Through one of these connects (God knows how any of these super-talented Nashville folks dug our shit-gear, longhair, psych-punk-junk-prog jams...) we met a brilliant slide guitar player. That night in Athens, he was sitting in with a band opening for the Silver Jews at the 40 Watt. [Note: I'm realizing with some research tonight that this was the first Silver Jews show ever. Previously...I was only aware that it was their first tour.] I was 3 or so years into a deep Pavement obsession that started the second I heard S&amp;E – Silver Jews ambled into my ears via a burnt CD from some friend and the laconic sounds of what I first thought were Pavement gone honky-tonk eventually seeped into my veins. When Tanglewood Numbers came out in 2005, I was Music Director at WCRD – and songs from that LP that should be goddam standards today ("Punks in the Beerlight", "Sometimes A Pony Gets Depressed", "I'm Getting Back Into Getting Back Into You") rapidly made their way onto our automated playlist and my regular show. Back to Athens – slide guitar guy gets ahold of Jon and asks if 2 of us want on the guestlist for the Silver Jews show. We figure we can make it straight out of our set, and agree. I'm not sure how we decided it was us who could go out of the 8 other than...we were the biggest fans? It was Jon's band? Regardless, I remember squeezing into the packed club and hearing the Joos rip through a great set, Dave dressed in a maroon blazer and towering over the stage and band. Once he started singing, all felt right. This was a musician's dream – the best night of my life! I was pretty sure – I remember coming down from the basement keg beer, thanking Slide Guitar, and leaving 40 Watt on cloud nine, a completely different person than the shy, uncultured nerd who nervously moved into a dorm 3 years earlier. We decamped back to the DIY space and drank through a 3rd show of the night – some fast-as-fuck punk via Guyana Punch Line that jackhammered thankfulness into my skull. IV As I sit and stare at my wall of records, I suppose that the reason my shelves are always overflowing (besides an addictive personality) is that music affords you a workingman's way to connecting with a higher power – 5, 10, 15 bucks to see or experience art created from some body/soul/sweat/tears – art that takes you places, bridges divides between strangers, and attaches itself, barnacle-style, to events in your life, accentuating and colouring in the meaning of life events and decisions that you don't recognize the Power, Importance, or Heft of when you are in them. Only later. The gift of hindsight is a weird drug for self-analysis. In some ways, a curse: it's hindsight and our need to shape stories in order to make sense of the World that forces Berman's existence into an arc, when, like our own, it was more likely a squiggly line, frayed here, grayed there. We wanted to see Purple Mountains as a redemption, as someone defeating something inside themselves, for a moment or a hundred moments, and emerging the victor.Upon his passing, the arc shifts: the album becomes a presage; and who but ourselves can parse the two-sided coin of self-lacerating wit and darkness? Sometimes we don't even know what side of our own coin is heads up.I'm deeply sad that DCB won't be able to look back at the outpouring of love inspired by Purple Mountains and his passing. I hope he found peace.