Sunday, 18 September 2011
I would wash all the cinders from your eyes
'And he won't come out alive', he cried. Wow. Sometimes, all you need to hear - especially on a Sunday - are Jonathan's fierce and brash guitars and, goodness me, those angelic, howling vocals he lays claim to via the gift of a blessing from the heavens. After just a few minutes of exposure, to the crashing, the shrieks and the silences, suddenly the world seems to be turned the right way up again. This is the meaning of bliss, my friends; one to be shared and adored.
Shearwater - '74, 75' (session version) (3.24)
Where they ponder, adrift on Islands. New material here.