Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
It just so happened that it was a snowy day when Chicago's Exit Ghost made the trip out here to Rock Island for its debut session. Not only didn't the weather hold them back, it might actually have steeled them. They might have actually preferred the conditions to those of a clear and gray winter day, passing down those worked over interstate roads with the salty white stains at their edges. It was an added challenge, sure, but it also provided a context that they might like best - that of a cold winter scape, one where you're going to require some bundling or your bones might just shiver themselves right out of your body and out onto the streets with that aforementioned salt staining.
You know what it's like when you give someone a hug, outdoors somewhere, in the winter? You've both got your puffy winter coats on and as you bring it in, their scratchy scarf slides up about your cheek and your bodies are further apart than they'd normally be, due to the layer of down in the coats, so you hug tighter. You give a little squeeze and you throw a bit of a strong clap with the top hand and arm, across the back. You want that damned hug to get through to the skin - so that skin gets a little something out of the exchange. It's a little like the way that Exit Ghost songs make you feel. It's what they bring to the door to greet you with and then they bring you in and sit with you through some deep mugs of whatever they've got in the cupboards