Return to Death Prom
Where the reverb is heavy and the souls are haunted.
James A. Reeves
A Walk in London
A delightful collage of me walking through London three years ago.
Figure With Meat
The ambiguity forces us to supply our own nightmares.
Slow Vessels
I’m returning to my spiritual practice of slowing my favorite songs down to a crawl.
Strange Shapes in the Night
Dedicated to the great American tradition of speaking to the heavens through car-wreck calendars and junkyard rockets.
Naming the Snow
“God is an experience,” an old man said as he reached for another cookie.
Holy Ruins
Some wobbly loops from T. Rex and Roxy Music, a static-ridden visitation from Nancy Sinatra, and other moments of holy imperfection.
2024 Rotation
Here are the albums I played the most this year, the ones I kept revisiting because they challenged, delighted, and reassured.
Professional Holiday Party
Five joyous classics from Chicago, Detroit, and Berlin. So sing along: “If snow was black, I’d wear black shades and drive a black car.”
The Heart Accumulates Microcracks
Psychedelic lamentations, Alabama soul, and baroque synthesizers respond to a Very Kind Listener's request for a soundtrack to accommodate a slowly breaking heart.
Brutal Times
Because true freedom is not thinking about the president every day.
Grey
Yesterday a man who smelled like gasoline attempted to enter the Capitol with a flare gun.