#sun kil moon
Sun Kil Moon - Sunshine In Chicago
It’s not the words themselves, but the tone, that really gets me. It’s the way that the meaning is conveyed through a sort of aural osmosis, my proximity to them, and the fact they’re there, letting whatever sentiment seep in through my earlobes, missing the aural canal entirely. It twists and turns its way up to my brain, and somehow the garbled mess can be turned back into its original form, distilled and made pure.
I don’t care about what he’s saying, only that he’s saying it. His larynx is just another instrument, as far as I’m concerned, but then music always was a form of communication. And when my lips are down close to your ear, and the words spill from my lips like tar, each one fixing you in place, you don’t give a fuck about the meaning behind them, even though each one sends a trill of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s the harshness of the consonants and the lewd, perverted elongation of the vowels. It’s the music of it, as depraved and dirty a tune as it plays.
The words don’t mean jack shit, on their own. They need a voice to speak them.
