Ok, this is bad. And good. I remember looking at the album artwork at my friend’s party, realizing I never bought it. Me, who saw gish live on Haight St. I was a devout fan from the moment I heard SP. But this friend had sent my future husband in for a haircut. We lived music. We fell madly in love to music. Both secretly on drugs, til we confessed. The songs swirled through the air all around us, but in love on drugs I never bought it. It was larger than life, so I heard it. This friend and I traded SP stories that night. He loved music as much as I did. I think all of us connected on the way we loved music obsessively. This album is that friend, that era, that party, that realization that I missed buying music I loved because I was in love. The love drug. 

I write this now, so many years later. 1 month separated. Living in a rabbit hole of my own isolated creation. Solitude. I want to feel what that album conveyed. It’s time to buy that album.

I miss SF and Juanca, Dina and The Smile House. How does my house have no name? Where has my creativity gone? Lost but not dead yet, this will help revive. Me. Thank you for the music.