One listen for this one.
Yet another song I’ve had queued up for a while.
I mostly was not actively trying to work out what to say with this one. When I did I didn’t linger too long which I think was good. I feel that, however, I may have been a bit all over the place but I like that I was able to touch on a few different things whilst still capturing the song.

Linckoln’s: “Stars Breathing” is from Dew.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Water flows peacefully and, among other sounds, gives a sense of the peaceful and idyllic. Soon something rises from underneath, however, and creates a sense of harshness.

Maybe it is not harshness, but rather dramatic flow of conversation. There is a sense of conflict, however. It is a sound that feels unnatural and it runs against a perception of natural, though maybe it feels unnatural due to not being easily discernible as something specific.

Keys soon trail off from this sound, as does something akin to woodwind. The woodwind disappears and more keys enter the space, more distant, and soon something that could either be the woodwind once more, or a facsimile of it appears. It gradually shifts and hardens and distorts, and spreads out and creates another level of conflict.

Perhaps this really is about the flow of conversation, but all seems to grow small underneath this new phase. The water remains and now sounds are less lively, or at least not lively in same way as before. Droning stretches out and elongates as it grows massive. The sounds become monolithic, gargantuan, and yet remain small. They create bodies that appear to have no end through connecting with each other, but they only exist in one point in time and are only that small point.

Eventually another sound bubbles up from the drones, and the water is distant, and the drones have grown warm and distorted, and that bubbling gradually rises in prominence, or at least it seems to have. There is something that could be profoundly sad here, and beautiful, and humbling, and yet it is none of those, but it is widening and it is grand, and within it something hums, and it grows more and more distorted but it remains as is and as was, and it continues on, and it begets something new and far beyond and pulsing and as bright noise, and it suddenly stops and the song ends.