Conceived as spring condescended to a stupefied gaze with blossoms and the faint spoor of romance, these tracks pair well with the decadence of a cosmopolis as experienced by one who sniffs and sighs among its evacuated parks and ominous groceries.  Listen closely and you will hear the ambience of quarantine: the guttural peal of motorcycles departing Greenpoint like Sodom, part Dürer, part Terminator; the flatulence of a garbage truck lurching up the street; tires rolling out rain slicked streets like sourdough starters in the phantasmagoria of instagram...the nose of an epigone picking up the trail, a path that leads through the immensity of leisure directly into the abyss

Get Around To It (Arthur Russell)

Matthew Fox