Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
What's always going to drive us mad is the not knowing. It's impossible to just fall in with the randomness of the world when you're hoping for a little sanity, for a little peace of mind. It's okay every so often to just give up to the arbitrary whims of time and people, but too much of it will fry your brains and it won't stop there. It's nasty what it does to a person. It makes them question everything, while they're still holding onto the thought that everything happens for a reason, or that everything will work out in the end. Sure, sometimes those things do happen, but if it always happened there wouldn't even be a need to say it. It would just be.
Meanwhile, the people that Daniel Inouwa, of Inouwa, writes about are chronic believers in the heart and its somewhat defiant guiding light. There's still not a lot to rely on - or nothing that you could feel good about swearing on - but it's going to have to be enough. He deals with the thought of just needing a little more, not much, just a little assurance that things are good.
These people need to know that they're not missing something, that they're headed in the right direction, with the person beside them or with the person that they'd like to have beside them. They're looking for openings and they're looking for the cracks of light that break through whenever they feel like. These are people who believe that two hearts can beat as one - a circumstance that relies on so many odd occurrences for it to ever happen. Inouwa sings, "The night is young and the fire is burning bright/We'll ask ourselves, 'Will we be alright?'" The question just trails off into that aging night.