Wist-full

If the west is cracked dirt and endless horizons, longing, and not knowing, then the beach feels like closure (even a shitty one like Myrtle).  Here, sea gulls herald a respite to frontier, and the coast sends me curling back into myself in breakers both nostalgic and insightful.  Lying on the strand, at the end of some world, there's sheer release in not remembering dreams.  There's release in finding a momentary home within laughter, sunburn; others (ever the Matthiesson enthusiast, now's the time to point toward "To glimpse one's own true nature is a kind of homegoing, to -- a place east of the sun, west of the moon -- the homegoing that needs no home").  But maybe that's it -- limits return us to what matters: beautiful people (whom I totally don't have pictures of #iswearihavefriends). 

faded

Chucktown tucks it in

ShayButtuh goes Native

Back and cruisin' with Buttuh on the Blue Ridge, Hass's "a word is elegy to what it signifies" shoots a new furrow in my mind, counter to the way it has always run; this time, I like the ritual of losing myself in the naming of things. 

Bandwagon Bootyshake

Pharrell calls this "4-D" music.  No goggles necessary.

Nerd-shimmy Looms

This cut-castle crew favorite from back when it came out has been on repeat.  Anything in Return is the album, funky as hell is the final analysis.


Toro Y Moi — "So Many Details" from Evan Prosofsky on Vimeo.

Looks

Master Gareth

Spring Breeze, Sheets, says Momma Herms

Vertigo

Frames (because they had to)

Boulder found me a few weeks ago.  Now things turn the other way. 

GET IT COLORADO

waiiiiiittttt

#SELFIE

afternoon dilates

breakfast took us

Caught Up

A couple of songs that have been absolutely ruling my life recently...

First Phosphorescent's gorgeousness (soul-candied ear-worm), then a Vampire Weekend song that feels like so much more, and finally, Kendrick doin' work on his own remix -- when you can casually destroy Jay-Z on another day in the office, I reckon you've got something going on.  Headphones, please.

Fool

Rhye has forged a new scape in my musicology -- now there are ways to be found high above treeline, or in the deep trees of another.  Most songs on Woman get so close, then promptly breathe on the spot they teased; it's beautiful and opaque and like reading body language two days later.  Now, exfoliated, in full swoon, and hoping that pining blooms new words for tracing fingers toward an untried, unknown cusp.

Yorke, mint.

The first time this happened, I watched with the lights off three times in a row...




Round two and there's still this sublime-Golem reconfiguration, but now it wants more and tries less; not to mention that the last minute gently holds a perfect handful of compositional gems (queue hand over ear, ear on hip sequence).

Best of all? Now, feel better about loosey-goosin' it in the kitchen by yourself.

Run it Back

This song is absolutely gorgeous, and runs with the watercolor theme.

Might be onto something

Uh!

This shit is awesome.

2,000 watercolors and call it a music video.

You may now dance.