Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Twice today, I've had to think about the beginning of the end. It's not something that crops up in normal conversation, but more in books and lyrics, this need to examine when the road starts to slope downward, when there's no denying that we've been wounded beyond repair, when all momentum is going to hurtle us toward something that's not at all defined for us with any kind of certainty.
Civil Twilight here finds itself tipping the scale and pointing us into the echoing divide, peering out over a great black hole, contemplating just what and just who we've got coursing through our veins. We're supposed to take a dive into that divide without testing the waters with a toe first. It's supposed to just be an act of faith, but faith in what is the greater question. The group, from Cape Town, South Africa, is made up of singer/bassist Steven McKellar, guitarist/vocalist Andrew McKellar and drummer Richard Wouters and the trio marks apprehensiveness with gorgeous washes of melodies and something of a wistfulness that feels like a wingspan stretching itself out. It's everything we need to feel, as if we aren't going about this alone. It makes anything that's bound to come along feel like some thrill ride. We are on the warm banks of the exploding star and everything's delightfully blinding.