Alright then. Fact 1 – I only listened to this once. Fact 2 – this piece is only 2 minutes long. Disclaimer – I am not lazy, I just spook easily. I am at home on my own, it’s twilight and I have a seriously overactive imagination.
I blame Nick Love, the man behind Winter Kind who set the tone with this picture. Immediately the industrial noises begin and establish a rhythm that exudes dread probability, I was walking this short road, heading into one of the blacknesses ahead.
It briefly put me back on the road home from a bar in St Yrieix les Bois in France: drunk, past midnight, no idea of the route and broadly unable to see my companions. All of us were walking fast, too fast really, because all of us were scared of what we couldn’t see and desperate not to be left behind.
Except that here, under this piece of music, the walk is and has always been solitary, and the darkness isn’t total – it only exists where the forest gets thicker, and it seems impossibly dark because of the occasional snow brightness of the open road.
Something is waiting down there – something sad, maybe heartbroken, maybe it didn’t want to be this way, but it is now, and it is cruel and terrible and final.