Dear Katie.
I miss you. I haven’t seen you in a few months now, maybe longer. Though you’re no longer living in some remote part of England known for its ovine-laden hillsides and is the embodiment of “craggy,” you still seem far away. Perhaps get yourself closer to an airport?
Oh, wait, you’re a nomad. And despite the fact that you now reside in the United States, it seems that your actual home is formed by a constellation of itineraries. Movement that adds up to routine, which creates consistency, until it mimics an almost tangible structure.
I guess what I’m saying is that when I listen to your new single, I hear the songs of an adventurer. One whose desires are split evenly—though not always seamlessly—between the allure of departure and the familiar refrains of return. The leaving behind and the rediscovery of people, places, and things. Whether it’s the curlicue guitar lines that reach and then resolve, or the way “Mist on Glass” collapses on itself at the end, undulating like both lullaby and mantra, these are songs that speak of interiority pressed against a changing landscape.
Love, CB
