A hauntingly beautiful tune that wails to belong
Headed up the coast of California the band and myself decided we’d stop somewhere off highway 1 and wander down to the beach before our show later that evening in Santa Barbara. As I stood overlooking the Pacific I could’ve sworn I was observing dense kelp growth unlike any shore I had been on in the past. Upon further inspection and closer proximity, I realized that what I was looking at was spilled crude oil. Thousands upon thousands of gallons of black churning muck that was crashing up all around me. The dichotomy between the striking natural beauty of an almost pristine coastline and the careless aftermath of perpetual greed sickened me.
Seeking a moment for contemplation, I hiked out into a small cove and watched the tide begin to ease it’s way in. I soon realized the murky water was getting deeper by the minute. Where I had snuck into this cove happened to be the only way out as I was completely surrounded by sheer cliffs. I thought to myself, “this ocean must be furious and it has every right to kill me right now.” I almost wanted it to; as some sort of small sacrifice I could present to this fiercely powerful force that showed how mournful and filled with grief I truly was.
As I clambered into the water as hastily as my limbs would allow, the waves thrusted my body against the rocks. I was half swimming, half crawling fully clothed trying to get the hell outta dodge. For some odd reason at that very moment, I remembered reading somewhere about a blue whale that could only sing in 52 hertz while all others sang in a completely different frequency register. I felt strangely close to this whale. What he’s seen remains locked within himself never to be shared. Caged wisdom. An ocean mute with a foreign tongue. His world is comprised only of deaf ears no matter how loud his cry. “Hey 52, that’s something me got in common with you.”
I made it safely, although soaked to the bone in an oily glaze back to solid ground. We played the gig and afterward found a place to sleep on the beach somewhere a little further up the coast. I remember looking out over what should’ve been a dark sea but counted the sparkling lights of the 12 separate oil refineries lighting up the horizon. Somewhere out there Blue 52 was exploring what’s left of his wildly polluted home with bitter sorrow. What could he do? I dreamt that night that 52 and myself were swimming together peacefully through space wanting “nothing with our hands only with our hearts”. You’re not alone out there big guy.
We’re only one more single away from the full release of MONOLITHS on March 15th! Look for G.T.T. in a two weeks from now. And if you feel like pre-ordering MONOLITHS on vinyl, you can do so right now. And ya’ll are sweethearts for reading my pointless novellas..
As always, thank you for including our tunes on the soundtrack to your untamed and strangest adventures.Pre-Order Vinyl