I'm starting to think if I keep queuing stuff up at the pace I'm going, I'll soon be a full year ahead of myself. At the time I am starting this one, it's just past Thanksgiving of 2016 and Fidel Castro, in one last act of defiance against the CIA that plotted his assassination for many years, has died of old age.
Hopefully 2017 has been an improvement on the previous shit show that 2016 was.
I suspect that my future self is not hold my breath.
My introduction to the small and magical lo-fi world of Alastair Galbraith.
I've always had a sort of contention that people write music to fill up the area that they play it in. It stands to reason that as a band's venue grows, so does the music change to reach those elusive nosebleed seats and the size and scope of the sound grows with it.
In other cases, there is a kind of personal music that one does on one's own that exists primarily within the confines of a small room and the headphones attached to recording device.
Alastair Galbraith makes the latter.
It isn't very big. Not as much time is spent on getting every detail perfect as capturing the moment, warts and all as it happens when the little red recording light is a steady red. Small fragile things and snippets of songs cut off suddenly when they seem on the verge of going awry.
Ideal for headphones and long walks.
Go to his bandcamp page. Give him some love and some money.
You know you can.
Do it.
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