March ended with an album almost as wonderful as the album that started it — Kelly Lee Owens’ self-titled debut LP. With the start of April come heavy-handed thoughts like, ‘March is gone, taking with it the spectre of oppressive familiarity.’ What I meant to say is that this break away from Mumbai is doing me a world of good. Besides, since vacations end, ‘the spectre of oppressive familiarity’ could well lie ahead as well. That heavy handed thought occurred to me in a Starbucks. No matter how many thousands of miles I wander, I always find myself at a Starbucks. Yesterday, I found myself at two different Starbucks, bringing my vacation Starbucks tally to three in three days.
Over much of this vacation, I have been listening to Kelly Lee Owens’ fascinating self-titled debut LP. It’s a heady mix of minimal balaeric-inspired techno, reverb-drenched bips and baps, and vocals that I can only describe with the magazine clichés ‘childlike’ and ‘haunting’. For music nerds, there is the added incentive of a Jenny Hval feature in song three of the album, Anxi. It’s a very interesting album that I highly recommend, especially for strollers and drivers.
The sun has set now, and I’m sitting at my balcony. The city is dark and silent, far below and to the right of me. I get the sense that a lot of this music was made against a similar backdrop, and its against this backdrop that it works best. Tomorrow, at 9 pm, I will stand silently on a beach, completely alone, staring at a neon-blue skyline, listening to Lucid, when the evening will wash over me, overwhelming me. It will be just as beautiful tomorrow as it is today.
I’ve become a softie in my old age.