Little Dragon - Twice
(a special one, this. it manages to be very comforting and peaceful, and, at the same time, very saddening and full of private agony, as if this is the moment after mourning -- that mourning still in our blood, still so very much in our blood, but also fading away, and therefore hurting so much, even though there is comfort in knowing, in knowing that there is fading, that there will always be fading. everything fades. which is beautiful. which is terrible.
Twice manages to be balmy like a summer evening seeping into late night, and inevitable like an autumn afternoon which cannot go anywhere.
it's the piano that leads the way. everything else rests on it; hills are climbed, hills that wish to be mountains but are not. they are not.
the piano leads the way, repeats itself, is ever there. will always be there. will always fade away.)