blindfolded in west texas

14 Dec

I didn’t know what to make of David Lynch’s Crazy Clown Time when I wrote about it for ALARM, and I don’t know what to make of it now. It’s an album that shies away from the sunlight, happier on a nighttime walk under bridges and overpasses. It’s an album of vice. And misery.

The sky today is lidded with clouds that glow like ugly fluorescents. Perfect for Lynch’s “ark,” which seems to literally flood my headphones, the sound of rain on pavement sampled into its timeless melancholy.

And yet by the time I get to “The Night Bell With Lightning,” the crops are dead from drought. There’s something about this song that makes me feel like I’m walking blindfolded through West Texas. Heat lightning just hazy green flashes through the black fabric. Drum hits faltering like my steps over the loose rock and prickly scrub that makes hatch marks on my legs.

The feeling is so strong, it’s almost overwhelming. And then there’s this abrupt end, just a chord that alights in the song’s brooding sky. I come out of that dark drone, and it’s like having the blindfold torn off. And I realize I’m still alive.

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