Deep Cuts, Dreams

Sibylle Baier

As hunters of good music, it’s eerie to think of all the great music we’ll never hear. Of course, we’ll never be able to scan every corner of the internet. We’ll also never be able to pore over every rare vinyl. We’ll never listen to the mix tape that was forced on us in Times Square before we learned “how to not look them in the eye.”

That’s really fine – with the exponential growth of recordings over the past few decades, we’re in no shortage of great tunes.

What is eerie to imagine though, is that in the attic of some house in a small town in Germany, a heart-wrenching masterpiece gathers dust because an artist never thought about showing it to people or didn’t believe it was good enough. Songs that were not just undiscovered, but never even put out there. It was enough for the artist to just enjoy making them.

**

Sibylle Baier wrote Colour Green between 1970 and 1973. Thirty years later her son found the recordings, sharing them with family members and a few others. Eventually, the tracks found their way to Orange Twin Records and in 2006 Colour Green was released.

It’s a beautiful album.

**

You made me forget about
have, want and exert
and all of the sudden I feel proud
for being without saying a word

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Chayed Out, Dreams, elgringo, Writing

The last song

It was nearing the end of the night. Two more songs maybe? Just one? Ben looked around and could tell everyone was getting anxious to wrap it up and move onwards to their parties, their open houses…their freedom.

“Alright everyone, last song of the night. You know what that means..find that special someone one last time. Class of 2016, this is for you!”  Was it possible for the DJs at these dances not to sound corny?

Ben’s eyes flickered frantically around the dim room. His heart rate picked up. The time had come. In his mind, he’d put himself in this exact moment countless times. It was his last shot to impress her, to make a statement, to look into her eyes.  There was no afterparty for Ben. There was no next opportunity.  After tonight was a summer of lethargic boredom and the foreboding unknowns of college.

Where was she?

There. Her yellow dress caught his eye. She was laughing with a friend.  The colorful lights of the dance floor shimmered in her eyes; those eyes that first grabbed Ben’s attention sophomore year. He smiled.

Ben took a deep breath, walked over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder. She turned.

May I have this dance? 

 

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Chayed Out, Dreams

Mount Kimbie – Break Well

It’s the first day of fall. Not technically, but last night a crisp air flooded NYC and turned the leaves in Queens. From the Ridgewood M station platform, the flat roofs give way to the treetops in Highland Park.

Usually, I’ll throw on the headphones and avoid shifting eyes for the 48-minute commute into the city. Today, I actually see the other passengers: a boy running a toy truck along the window, a quiet woman juggling papers, coffee, and a cell phone, a brace-faced teen laughing with her friend while studying for a test.

Between the weather, the view, the unusually serene train ride, and the following song, my mind saves this memory as the mark of a new season.

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