After a long, long time, you felt the cold on your face. High in the mountains, surrounded by trees and forest creatures, seasons flipped on you. How may times did you go away? How many times did you watch yourself say goodbye? When you finally left, nothing is the way you thought it would be. Go ahead, admit it, to yourself and to everyone else. Honesty is sometimes rewarded.
Admit it and I will tell you a story about Callahan and his first records, when he used to call himself Smog, and how I feel them as post-war ruins of a divided city. City without the bridge, city with the bridge, and still nothing changes. Music remains. Callahan’s experiments were a soundtrack to the quest of youth. His voice calmed that madness. I will also mention today’s Bill, top musician and a cool cat, he doesn’t deserve less.