the pale warm light welcomed me back.
At some point, it seems, the heavens closed.
Girls dream in technicolor.
I don’t think anybody is coming.
I need something serene. Where is your island? It’s too foggy to see it today and no one I’ve spoken to knows what I’m talking about.
I am reminded of rainy walks in Moscow parks in the early 90s. Walking through the boulevards holding my mom’s hand after school. It’s hard to believe all my memories have taken place on this planet even though those days seem far away, but I can see them when I want.
They came to me as a collection of cheese-eating disco rodents from London’s fashionable Willesden. Listen to them combining sparse electro beats with other weird sounds. Very The XX meets Sade. But, you know, mice.