In ode to my recent realization that I have let far too many ideas fall out of my reach, that there are many grand results that I myself should have copyrighted... I'll say this now: Crucified Stride Records is something I want to be a part of.
Commence. I am drunk and listening to old Thievery Corporation.
These days I cannot stop my mind from settling on thoughts of my brother Tony, and also the atmospheric effect that New Orleans had on my life. I'm feeling that latter right now... That entire week, I was completely enthralled into the two records I just bought: Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow and Captain Beefheart's Ice Cream for Crow. The common thread riding between the two, I felt was important, and surely it proved as such. What a monumental time. Though I experienced this on my own, entirely in the context of my personal thriving emotions for the duration. So much detachment lie across the tightrope of the one line crossing her heart to mine. You see, though it was the roughest encounter of love I'd ever known, I still can say I felt strengthened by the full-on envelopmental course I allowed to take hold of me. Ah, the bittersweet grip. I regret none of this; I wouldn't be precisely who I am now. Though I truly detested 2008 for nearly all of its stay. Glossy marble balls that fed our innermost self-interest. Denied yet still clutched.
For whatever it may render, bring forth our beliefs.
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