Sun Kil Moon

I have literally been incapacitated. I have not really been able to do much in the past 24 hours. Other than my rare escapes from my house, I have been pinned to my speakers, listening to Sun Kil Moon. There is an uncannily strong magnet, pulling my heart to the chords and progressions and noodling guitar of Mark Kozelek's Sun Kil Moon project. Ghosts of the Great Highway is stuck on repeat, and I cannot will myself to stop this madness. I'm hypnotized. 

There are times when I can't even find the words to describe the strong connection I feel with a song or an album or an artist. I know I'm supposed to be writing about the music, but my thoughts are blurred, and all I can do is feel. 

The whole pace of Ghosts seems to linger, slow and melancholy, and Kozelek's voice doesn't really seem to shockingly change. It just moves effortlessly as the wind blows, floating high and then swooping down as the songs crescendo and crash. String arrangements occasionally swell in the background, but Kozelek's sweetly somber voice and gentle, exquisite guitar picking are the focus. 

It's weird how music can come back and haunt you. Lauren and I used to listen to this album a decent amount sophomore year, and I never really got much out of it. It didn't draw any sort of emotion from me (not that I can remember). I even got rid of the album while I was cleaning my music library a couple years ago. A friend just gave Ghosts back to me, and I feel like something inside of me has re-awoken. I don't know what it is. Perhaps certain music is appropriate for certain times or stages in your life, and only in these times can you thoroughly appreciate the craft and artistry. 

Sun Kil Moon, you have fully entranced me.