The sneeze-like sensation warms up your long-time memory and drowns your consciousness in expired feelings. The voyage of déjà-vu can take you from overwhelming happiness to sinking sadness in a couple of seconds. It acquaints you with your memories afresh, releasing what I am addicted to: nostalgia.
There’s no expiration date on good music, but there is a certain flavor of regret reserved for discovering an awesome band through a midcareer album’s 11th anniversary show. Boris recently played the entirety of Pink at Tavastia, a noisy, smoke-drenched, perfect experience. The band’s particular mix of doom, psychedelic rock, and avant garde noise leaves little space for any sentiment other than pure enjoyment.
2016 was an evil year, or so I’ve been hearing. ...and yet I’m not sure I feel that 2016 was particularly bad.
The Difference A Year Makes
You might look at the year that we have had as having been a year of loss, a year of death of different sorts be it more tangible as in the case of Carrie Fisher or the hundreds in Aleppo, or more abstract as in the things that some people think that were lost in the US elections. As humans we tend to reflect things through our own experiences and this leaves me in a strange place. You see it could be argued that I wouldn’t be in the university right now had there not been death and loss in my life.