Music For Crawling Through Abandoned Cities

Abandoned places and desolate spaces, covered with rain, snow and ash, wrapped in a blanket of white noise and pulsating bass, somewhat metallic, chilly and wet. These are the images for these sounds for these places of my mind. Something is trembling with the beat of my heart. Tick-tock. The waves of the ocean lick the rocky crevice of the earth, which has always been there, waiting for another wave. Somewhere in the background I hear the sounds of a forgotten carnival over a muffled beat. The rain falls. An old record crackles. I listen to an album which was never made. The album cover dances with letters “Grief Point”. I interview the artist, and he says, “the answer to the making of ‘Grief Point’ is picnic baskets filled with blood.”