The Winding

https://coreofthecoalman.bandcamp.com/album/the-winding

A little melody is made by the wind, and winds up different in different weather. It wakes up on different days and puts on a different suit, it goes out in different weather and has different conversations with friends, hears different birds (and fish). It writes these down in different tunings, and teaches them to an owl. When the owl sings it back at night it sounds different, and when Anton Yamaha sings it, its very peculiar. Nevertheless, everyday the melody thinks it is all the same. It feels like the year is a record with its grooves played down, played, like John Prine sings, “so many times that the memories are worn. ” But what the melody can’t understand (because it can’t really hear itself only ‘catch’ itself offsides, the way we catch our shadows), is that there never was any original, only variations each becoming, and each one original, each one part of itself. Sometimes even less: just a landscape to project itself into, and landscape it is also part of, becoming as any part of it becomes, and shared by all the parts, all of us if you want to.