The World Is As Soft As Lace

The Splendour of Fear / Crumbling The Antiseptic Beauty

There are many albums that upon the first listen hit you as wonderfully as they do.
There are times when the right album listened to by unknown ears, and a heart in just the right place, can create the perfect moment for an album to be embraced and adored eternally by the listener. Thank gosh for all the elements that exist to create these moments, and allow all of us to have those albums that do that for us, we are so grateful.

Upon my journey into wide world of the ever popular post punk genre, I was in such a place that I was unsure about a few things I was embarking upon. In my head I knew I was probably doing something stupid, but thought perhaps it was a great thing at the same time, and my heart was being lured by one who knew how to pull the strings ever so perfectly. Sending forth in their melancholy, the album/compendium that meant so much to them and that they were finding solace in, I was privileged to share in the sentiments.

Felt was not a new band for me, as I owned the compilation on tape that starts with the material from Ignite the Seven Canons, and closes with the 7" of the unreleased singles. But apparently, according to this person of that moment, THESE were the songs that I was in great need of listening to...especially to move through the rainy and grey days of spring in New York.

Alas, after a sense of fond affection to these albums had began, the person left me in a state of despair, or rather, from just left, with no reason, a vanishing grace as it were. Left in a sense of misery and melancholy, with the haze of humidity to greet me every morning in NYC, I found new charm in this album. While I had a beautiful attachment to it as the sympathetic eyes of another feeling my thoughts, now knowing that I could use it as my way of being sad, it was poignant. Fortune became a soundtrack to many points of my day and seemed utterly perfect in the moment...day in and day out.

The person whom was kind enough to burn this for me, is all but a spec in my lifeline, the feelings and sentiments have allowed me to harbor treasures of emotional journies, and to always preserve that moment of foolishness and sadness, but also with a knowledge that I am past those days and can appreciate my earlier ways with a grain of sand, as I reflect on my innocence and nievity. Understanding one's lack of grace or rather appreciating the growth and sense of maturity we all make.

These albums have such stoic places in my heart, to appreciate these titles as a chapter to one's life. The Splendour of Fear happens to be the most appropriate title I could have even dreampt to contrive, for the experience and past moment to this album is almost cliché. Beyond fitting.

I ask you to find a perfect morning within a haze of being alone, take for yourself a wonderful baked item (I prefer a fresh scone), a divine cup of earl gray tea, crack open a window, take a look upon the town/place you live, and breathe it in. Put Crumbling The Antiseptic Beauty onto your player and sit down in the most comfy way and enjoy your morning breakfast still gazing upon it all, and listening to this. Let your thoughts wander ever which way...

As you progress you might want to just lay back in bed while still gazing out your window and dream off into sleepyland. And every once in a while, you might enjoy this napping option alongside a loved one....

Just make sure the weather and moment are right!
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