Brooklyn… They do it in Brooklyn too, or at least that’s where it started with BLACK MARBLE. Funny when I Googled them the first result the came up was “dark limestone, quarried from mines near Ashford-in-the-Water, in Derbyshire, England. Once cut, turned and polished, its shiny black surface is highly decorative.” That makes a lot of sense if you listen to this record. I’d have never have placed them as an American band and surely not from Brooklyn where young white people for a very long time seem to be all either appropriating “urban music” or wearing vests and fucking around with banjos and ragtime. Maybe that’s a bit unfair. Let’s just say I would have guessed Black Marble as English… post-punk, darkwave, coldwave, whateverwave, and leave performative whiteness and cultural appropriation out of it.

And they’re good. They’re really good.

You can tell of course, from the above paragraph, that I’m in a strange place. I call that strange place home these days. I’ve done the shadow work, communed with my shadow self, and we’ve fallen into a torrid love affair with each other. The odds are 50-50 that we either kill each other once and for all, or ride off into the sunset. Freud would be alarmed but Carl Jung would probably have a laugh. He had the better sense of humor of the two. It seems that way to me.

But my personal demons and I have a pretty good relationship and tonight after a long day of exploration of Pandemic World and going on all the rides it’s Netflix & Chill. Or it was, and now it’s Youtube and chill.

Make no mistake though. It’s an odd place. It’s an often dark place. It’s not a bad place. Short attention span and being distracted aside, it’s actually pretty good.

Speaking of short attention span, I’m too tired to write. My eyes hurt.

The health thing… there has been some kind of a flare-up or relapse. I’m dealing with it.

I’m dealing with it.