• lost trail – other burlington – twin springs tapes

    out of stock

    I awoke to a summer evening already tinged with the sad gold of swiftly approaching autumn. Every bird in the towering oaks was whispering “Come see, come see.” They led me in escort to an unfamiliar neighborhood, past the boarded-up mansions, past the crumbling mills, past the train cars sitting slumped and rusted on un-used sidings. The air shifted, the world tilted imperceptibly on its axis, and all grew hushed and chilled. At the wooded void of a dead-end street at dusk, I glanced in my rearview to find the backseat of my little car teeming with spirits, pure refractions of light and dark jostling for the seatbelts. What else could I do but bring them home, to the shadowy reaches and unmapped hollows of our own halls? With their consent, I recorded their stories on tape, though their ephemeral nature distorts and damages all attempts to capture their voices. Listen close. This is the music we’ve made while reaching across the threshold and clasping hands. – Lost Trail