Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Josh Niles at Big Light, Nashville, Tennessee
The toes that we first put into the waters come out again whole. They're nothing but splashers. They go in and when they dip themselves back out of the water, they can't wait to go back in. It's hard to keep them, the feet, the legs and the entire rest of the body out of the water. They can't find anything hazardous within the water to be wary of. The water here is just living in general. Days never break. They're barely flawed. They have some dings to deal with, but nothing substantial -- nothing we'd fear. The people that we see passing us in the streets deserve greetings and smiles. We don't become suspicious and introverted until much later. It takes a while to know that there are traps and scoundrels everywhere. It takes a while to understand evil and the consequences of consorting with it, or even just brushing with it.
Canadian band Silverstein has made a career out of highlighting the many stripes of a cracked world and the people who disappoint us and make it more treacherous than it needs to be. They detail the self-destructiveness of the human spirit, when it gets pinned in a corner and survival instincts need to kick in or when only the darkened horizons can be viewed. We are bombarded by the letdowns and deceit that are always overlooked and underestimated. Our very own capacity for bringing either on is most overlooked. We scream loudly at our own foolishness. We know that we can't save or protect anyone else from the perils of life and we'll be doing a damned fine job if we can just keep our own selves as minimally scraped up as possible. The walls are covers with claws and blades. The sky is boiling and everyone's soft to the touch. The battle wages on.