January Sounds
I've been revisiting some releases and wanted to talk about them. I'm not a music writer but I love writing about music so these are how I would visually describe them in A-Z order. |
| 1 |  | Abriction
Banshee
Sounds like: A night out running away from the city while trying to dodge every raindrop on your way to someplace with less light pollution. It is a densely populated gild that reveals sanguine tenderness while fixating in an aloof state, like a spectral guest. |
| 2 |  | Avenade
Our Raging God Unknown to Us
Sounds like: A slowly fluttering moth trapped in a jar made from decrepit polyethylene. It is a thought that maybe, if only for a moment, it's best to stay still and acknowledge you were never going to find an exit. |
| 3 |  | Frail Body
Artificial Bouquet
Sounds like: A surgeon gazing over at a wallet-sized portrait of the patient's children nearby their hospital bed during a brain operation. It is a chasm in appearance but promises the rare, deeply-rewarding, discovery aspect for those who venture within its meticulous innards. |
| 4 |  | Greyhaven
Stereo Grief
Sounds like: A rowdy house gathering being swallowed by the overwhelming guilt that something is lurching from the swamplands. It is an introspective bog monster jetsetting around, marsh to marsh, acquiring new locations to have an existential crisis. |
| 5 |  | Heavenly Blue
We Have The Answer
Sounds like: A raucous greeting of several loosely-connected people seen from across the subway platform while an uptown train passes by. It is a life affirming first lick of your favorite ice cream on the same subway platform while watching in agony as friendly commuters ask for eachothers names and genuinely try their best to remember them when exiting the station. |
| 6 |  | Infant Island
Obsidian Wreath
Sounds like: A haunting aura beyond the physical plane attemtping to invade your psyche through incantations recited to conjure a hyperspecific petrichor you call deja-vu but never actually existed. It is a glistening escapade into the darkest of forests. |
| 7 |  | Prisoner
Putrid | Obsolete
Sounds like: A dilapidated nest of wasps with stingers made from lag screws rapidly approaching your home. It is a tense, drilling cacophony of surging industrial anguish. |
| 8 |  | Purest Form
Purest Form
Sounds like: A scrap of sheet metal lodged in between the spokes of a bicycle. It is a kinetic churning from a machine's raspy hiss that squirms every time you go near it. |
| 9 |  | Schedule 1
Crucible
Sounds like: A blazing joyride on a cosmic stallion. It is a collection of tiny dust specks in your wind-protection goggles while gripping on the reigns to ride further into outer space. |
| 10 |  | Sweet Pill
Starchild
Sounds like: A fleeting realization that the self-fufilled person you've been trying to become can't materialize without significant emotional sacrifice. It is a looming, intangible sensation of an autumn picnic by yourself when it starts getting dark too early to not justify bringing a better flashlight. |
|
