Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Sound engineering by Mike Gentry
Without ever having seen a mirage, there's no way to speak intelligently about how they could mess a dude up. Maybe speaking intelligently about mirages isn't a possibility at all, as they come from depravation, from adverse conditions suitably fucking with a person's inner chemistry to leave them in no shape to discern this from that or that from this. Either way, dudes be messed up when the mirages roll in like spooks or phantasms and start painting the walls up. Mostly Bears live in Tucson, Ariz., and the three members say that they formerly all lived together out in the middle of the desert.
This sort of living situation must have led to all kinds of urges to expand their minds or as lead singer Brian Lopez suggests, alter their consciousnesses. A stifling heat and sand as far as the eye can see can turn anyone loopy, the same way heat and an open ocean can do the same for the seafaring gentleman or woman. Too much of anything can destroy perceptions and turn them into mushy jumbles, leaving standard order to suddenly be unrecognizable to those who thought they knew it like the backs of their hands. Going just a little bit off the reservation isn't all that bad either though. It's a fine pastime to let it all just go and to trust in something outside the body and spirit, to just go slightly mad thinking things were getting into your blood that didn't belong, believing in conspiracies and letting that blasted sun cook us.
"A Silhouette Stain" is an epic song from this powerful and twistedly intellectual band suggesting that their heads are lost - maybe telling that to a god or telling that to themselves in a spinning stupor. The song sounds as if it's coming from a man on the make, trying to figure things out for himself for the very first time. He's going nuts. He's feeling his skin itch with an uncontrollable burn. He's allowed himself familiarity with the seedier sides of the soul. He's probably not going to ever be the same again. It's a song that can't be faked under any circumstance, meaning that Mostly Bears have found ways to get deep with themselves through any manner that gets results. They've decided that this is more important than anything else and the times in the song when Lopez sounds as if he's being electrocuted, as if his legs were being taken into the mouths of crocodiles, it's as if there's an actual audio recording of the devil taken possession of a blackened soul, one that he loves. It's at the crossroads of wreckage and salvation and there's not any form of return policy when the tires stop there at that intersection. The rubber grinds to a crunching halt and the car gets shifted into park and then come what way. The images that fly by the eyes at that moment must be cathartic and paralyzing and they must be blinding and hot as that desert sun is. Lopez sings about how everyone dreams to escape and this seems to suggest that escape is one fiery place to discover.
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