"Iowa City’s Kent Williams has been working as Chaircrusher in the midwest techno and hip-hop scenes for many, many years, but he’s clearly anything but jaded. His current Chaircrusher iteration is all about six-minute-plus, thoughtful modular synth jams. And whether they’re riding a hefty techno kick (“Cirrus”) or broken beats (“Grandma Moses”, “Sinjahara”), or meandering through a fog of reverb and whispering voices (as on the title track), those synths always sing—their crisp tones full of delight as they dance around and above the beats."
Somehow the main point of the story got lost in the telling. The digressions were full of details too specific to be true.
Over the course of a long life, the past disappears. New memories arise of alternate timelines, things that were never to be.
The ax laying rusted in the tall grass might cut again.
I have forgotten her face and her name, but the memory of my feeling for her is so vivid.
People are outlived by the smell of the cigarette smoke on their possessions.
What I want is to hear the music that no one makes, and to which no one will listen.
Everything is deadly if you wait long enough.