Say fuck it and start. I am joining you in that impulse, so thanks for this aphorism to keep. The weight of expectation and preparation; the worry of knowing where to begin; the anxiety that arrives from thinking that only if you do all exhaustive preparatory work will you cruise to a destination – that’s all wrong. Security in commencement never arrives, so say fuck it and begin. Yet your music has such layered complexity that it belies such quick movements – not an earthquake but an accretion, a sedimentation of history and sound, mud and other fecund materials into layered density. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to anything so geologic. A certain chemical trace inheres, like the smell of rock after rain, recording or suggesting things now invisible but not gone.
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