Strange Figurines

It’s one of the joys of music that I can listen to an EP by a band from Austin, Texas, where it snowed this year but usually doesn’t, while looking out my window, watching the snow slowly melt and anticipating a dollop of it tomorrow to bury me anew. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of being caught in a snowstorm at night—a real one: city asleep, whiteness thick as fog, destroying distance and dulling the glow of street-lights—you know that winter and synths are two sides of the same coin, which you fiddle with with your thumb and forefinger in your pocket, don’t leave your hands exposed or you’ll get frostbite but in your coat it’s warm and cozy and it’s even better when it’s not your hand but someone else’s and you’re both walking, shoulder to shoulder, toward the jukebox that plays to the world the music that’s playing through your headphones, half into your ear, half into hers…

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