Even when we say it, how much do we really want to get lost? Even when we say we mean it, how much do we really mean that we want to leave this all behind? Sure, there are all kinds of answers and little consistency - barely a stitch of common thread to be had in any of this - but there is at least something to chew on. When we think about or threaten to leave everything behind and make a new life, or start our grand adventure, it's almost always hollow talk. We might not want to stay, but we don't want really want to leave either. We're being tempted or drawn away, onto those luxurious and sexy highways and those 48 connected states that are sprawled across thousands of miles of land. Trapper Schoepp & The Shades music sounds like it's all coming from one of those great romantic minds of a young man who might be thinking about romance in the strictest sense, but more than likely he's just thinking about the romance that comes with no strings attached, with a little baggage, but not many worries that anything bad is going to come of it. The tales that the Milwaukee-living Schoepp writes are filled with big sky glory and with people cruising around with the windows rolled all the way down and the radio - yeah, the radio - turned on and cranked loudly. It's driving and driving, clearing the head, figuring out what you want to do about what you just left behind and what's next. The aforementioned thought of not really wanting to go anywhere plays into these songs, all of which have that temporary thought of getting away, of days and road passing you by, but it feels like everyone, no matter where there off to, has the desire to circle make. They're going to wind up where they left their heart. It's going to be right where they shed, where they will get a new skin. It's right where they've always prowled. They'll leave a popcorn trail and hope that the dust doesn't cover up the kernels or their tracks too severely. They'll need those again someday.