Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Patrick Stolley
I saw this morning that, while 95-percent of the country is going to have sunny skies and highs well-above normal today and through the weekend, the weatherman on the CBS morning show wanted to make sure that he pointed out a few places on the map where there were going to be snowflakes. It was up in the Rockies, out there in Colorado - where the band Tjutjuna hails from. He showed some misshapen purple blotches, there amongst those peaks and valleys, and even though very few people were actually going to witness any of that snowfall happening, it was happening up there in the tippy tops of the mountains. It was most definitely real and, just because it was only going to be witnessed by a few, didn't mean that it was insignificant.
The wildest part about that need to show us that there was going to be snow happening in America today, while nearly everyone had their air conditioners artificially cooling them, is that it got you wondering how strange that must be for anyone who actually did experience that, for anyone who may have had to shovel their sidewalk because they chose to live - like a crazy person - up in the mountains.
The music that Tjutjuna makes is the kind that you'd expect to hear as a hard to believe snowstorm came about, right when you least expected it, falling at an alarmingly - as if bashfully - slow rate, knowing that it's not supposed to be here, but still recognizing itself as a fine accompaniment to the proceedings. The four songs that the group recorded here, are linked together, into one extended track, which pauses briefly and then starts back up with more instrumental notes that are akin to a snowflake, or clump of snowflakes landing on a warm patch of pavement or railing and us watching as they immediately dissolve into droplets of water.