Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
The thing that we forget most often is how tumultuous our lives are from day to day. We gloss it over, most of the time, but we are dealt with matters big and small that affect us deeply. It could just be that we head to the fridge in the morning, our bowl already filled with cereal, only to find that the last of the milk is unexpectedly gone. It sends a ripple through our entire day.
Someone walks off with your salted caramel mocha at Starbucks and the barista stares you fucking down and scolds you, "That's why you don't leave the waiting area. Someone took your drink," as if it were REALLY your fault that someone else stole your drink. You get inflamed and want to try to get her fired, but rather you don't say anything and just go on with your afternoon, still thinking about the incident all night long, even recounting the story to your wife and friends. It's dumb, but it got to you. All of this is superficial, but it all plays into our essence. It all plays into our general well-being.
What the New York band Lucius does is they make us realize that there are many things that aren't worth stewing about. You have plenty of reasons to be sad or depressed about, but there is only one that really counts and that's finding out that love has faded. You are allowed to give in to that pain. You can let it hit you like waves and just carve out your new posture, your new spine and your new stiffened upper lip. You can begin to perfect your defenses a little more while still letting your guard down. You can just let it all go. The quiver can snake through you and you can let the beautiful escape of wailing out, "I don't need you anymore," feel like the truth. It's gonna hurt like hell, but some tears dry sweeter than others.