|Posted to facebook Guitar vs. Gravity page
||[Sep. 14th, 2012|10:58 am]
But I thought it would fit in here.|
In my early 20s in Indiana I would spend certain Saturday afternoons driving to small towns to check out the local guitar stores. The best deals were always out in the sticks. They all closed at 6:00 or so. The trips always ended with me driving back home to the city across country roads at dusk.
There is a certain collision of feelings that happened during those moments of early evening driving. It was a melancholy of staggering proportions. There was a contentment and beauty, but there was also a longing for something more. There was the history of the midwest in the small, no-stoplight towns, and the practicality of a no nonsense life in middle America. There was a sadness mixed with an honorable acceptance of a practical life. Plus, it was that time in my life when I was no longer a carefree youth, but I certainly was not a responsible adult.
And then there was the sun going down in the west across the fields of crops or treelines. There was an abundance of warm light which sometimes blinded me, but always created wonderful, high contrast landscapes. It was fleeting, and in a few more moments I knew it would give way to another night time. Moods would change to reflect whatever we did at night; go to shows, go to a diner, have band practice, or just go hang out somewhere.
I think the new GvsG music captures that feeling of dusk in the midwest. It lives in that area of transition between the bright day and the social night, when a person can stop and admire the beauty and history of everything all at once, where the sadnesses somehow have a satisfying weight, and where we can't help but step back and have a little moment of silence for how astounding the experience of life can be.