With this song I tried to suggest some of what was going on at the surface level but mostly stuck to the imagery I felt was being suggested by the music.

Most of this was written over one listen. A small part was written over a second listen.

Lauren Bousfield’s “Fire Sale” is from Avalon Vales.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Sudden glide in, shooting past, flickering traffic perhaps on an expanding plane. Picks up rapidly and from the movement of the traffic a melody is born. Something fragmented. Only getting bits, but still getting a whole picture.

As this melody forms itself and becomes more concrete there sounds like something trying to rise up, then the low, heavy hum of something sits underneath the traffic. There is a distinct frame and from this the traffic flows on, almost as though it is a highway that isn’t there, despite its clear presence.

There exist some questions about where the traffic moves toward, and within the traffic there is nothing. There is no traffic. There is a flickering flame, moving and dancing wildly, trying to escape from its containing wick, but it cannot, though the wax underneath keeps on melting. It grasps for the oxygen it can and it gradually moves downward. Sometimes it lashes out wildly in a hopeless attempt to break free, but eventually it will run out of wick that it can follow. With nowhere to go it can only find itself at a sudden, smokeless end.