Je t'aime.

(A) Paleo - Fruit of The Spirit (A Music List Without The Numbers)

I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, because it was something I once associated with a New York apartment, that had stained wood and barking dogs. The inhabitant of the place, kept a music catalogue there on his computer and the list would transform daily, after listening to something new or hearing a friend declare their life changed. Quick sketches regarding the year in tone and vibration, were something expected internally though. The first drafts were scribbled in a notebook while I was in London. There the initial germ of the monster was born. If you look close enough, I have jagged teeth.

This is all back-history that you probably don’t care about, but it’s just as important as me critiquing what it is I hear in the grand ocean that is sound. It’s important, because it’s helped shape me, and it is but within this mirror, that I’m able to judge and form an opinion. In fact, my love for Paleo stems back to forever ago. He is someone I agree with creatively, and in his optimism, I see some of the same eccentricities as I see in myself. Even in his lazy demolition of song structure, there is a flaming admirability that explodes, due to the innocence and honesty that he lets flower. It’s all good tasting.

Some say the album is something more than the fruit of the spirit, while others single it out as a sleazy Daniel Johnston knock-off. For me, it serves as a soothing remedy for that part of myself that continues to slide towards rebellion. That fragile lyric from the tune Pharoah that reads “And the city grew like vines on the sky”, always hits the heart right. In fact, the science behind falling in love with a song, completely isn’t something present in this case. There’s just the seductive knowing. My mind falls right into rhythm with the color of the inner psyche that Strackany lets drool outward. And that’s nice.

But then again, David is the dream-tiger that I’ve always secretly wished to be.