Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Rob Ahlers at Studio Paradiso, San Francisco, California
It's complicated trying to figure out how we're supposed to be, who we're supposed to be with or what we're even supposed to tell them about ourselves when we think we've identified them. We tend to feel sketched, but only lightly, when we get to any of those places that are starting to make us feel productive or smarter. There are no directions, as we are all aware, and still everything's made to feel like it's a put-on, as if we were all starring in this decently budgeted production, based on the story of our life. We're not even sure if we should be here, but all of the lines are supposedly ours and we're supposed to know them. We're not supposed to have to think about it too much.
Minneapolis band Cloud Cult and its lead singer Craig Minowa seem to take us into these wonderfully confusing and insightful orchestrations of lives half-moored. They are characters who are hyper-present, willing to get as comprehensive and discerning as they possibly can, just so they can get to the bottom of the things that are so hard to get to the bottom of: chaos and love. Here, at one point, Minowa details how tough it is to tell the two apart is. He theorizes that there are leagues of people on both of those sides and it will always be that way. We'll be looking for love and there we'll find chaos. We'll be believing that we're witnessing the worst chaos that could be thrown at us and suddenly we're in love with it, or something close to it. The moment we think we've got anything figured out, we fall flat on our faces.