Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Shawn Biggs at Studio Paradiso, San Francisco, California
It's nice sometimes to just get lost in the cruising altitude. Even then, there are no assurances that everything will be smooth sailing. The turbulence could still send a rude awakening that you're doing something unnatural, that you're defying and messing with Mother fucking Nature at the moment and you'd better be prepared for the consequences should she find your trespassing too disruptive. The captain can still turn on the fasten seat belt sign and there could be moments of grave panic as everything dips, rattles and dives through the uneasiness. But there's something about just being able to let it roll, when everything levels out and your stomach unknots for a little while.
Los Angeles band TORCHES aren't presenting some cushy, easy-going string of events, but the overriding sensation is of sailing on warm winds that are going to get us to where we want to be, or where we're expected. Things sound to have been previously rocky, but they're getting better, with a little elbow grease and a little force. It's just about getting above the din and the clamorous tongues.
TORCHES sing, "The trouble isn't just the distance anymore." It could be that it's the height now causing some problems. People, at some point, begin to confuse where they are with where they've been and the cloudiness shows. Starting fresh, beginning new fires using the same box of matches and the half-spent wood from past burns is a better way. It gets us to something more study, something with a steady pulse. We can then lie comfortably, even when we're thinking, "Pull me closer/It's not over/It's not over."