Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Never been sure what spaghetti has to do with westerns, but there's plenty of spaghetti in these westerns and plenty of western in these spaghettis. The music that Los Angeles' Spindrift makes is a collection of silhouettes that are even more shadowy than they have to be. They worm through hazy nights and create the crunches and the rustlings that could be anything. The songs sound like spurs and like moonlight, drifting from white and yellow to purple and midnight blue tones.
These are more of the drowsy representations of western sentiments, but they have the make of those scenes where no one's drawn a gun yet, but everyone's thinking about it. Everyone's considering reaching for the holster. The day has been long and hot and it's just now that there's been any break in the conditions. It's just now that there's anything suggesting a let-up, though the tempers continue to be thrust forward, as if on a train headed for nowhere. We see the heat causing waves to ripple from the ground. We hear the vultures calling from somewhere, as everyone wipes their dripping brows. They're thinking about just heading to bed, to avoid it all, to shut out the creeping shadows for a few hours.