For The Record | Issue 27

For The Record | Issue 27

Epilogue

For the record, I feel a strong sense of pressure with this particular column, my final one of the year. I want to find just the right words to end with. I want this conclusion to be satisfying. Itís hard to believe the year is almost at its close, and that weíll soon be free from the confines of academia Ė free from 2 am essay epiphanies; free from a diet of grease, liquor, and caffeine; free from sleeping in lecture halls and losing ourselves on the internet. Free from all the things that define university lifeÖ

I remain at a loss for words. Iím exhausted. Iíve forgotten what it feels like to be fully rested. October feels far too early to make a ďBest of 2012Ē list, but then again, maybe it isnít. Maybe I should talk about music, and what Iíve enjoyed listening to this year: the music thatís heightened my senses, punctuated my sprawling nights, carried me through periods of endless grey clouds, and hinted at blue skies ahead. Music has certainly helped me cope with all the hours spent hunched over a desk, slowly forgetting about my past and gradually losing sight of my future.

The gun slinginí outlaw Killer Mike put a spring in my step and wild ideas in my head, and provided a sweaty soundtrack to many a sweaty night. Cooling off a little bit, The Tallest Man on Earth filled my room with masterworks of jangly guitars and poetic spirit; his record Thereís No Leaving Now is among the best released this year.

Sometimes I take myself too seriously: I use long words, drink green tea, and self-consciously wear tweed. Luckily I have Odd Future around to remind me that life is really just one big fucking goof. The OF Tape Vol. 2 has a lot of things going for it: itís chockfull of hilarious and seriously good hip hop, Earl is back, and the music video for rap epic ďOldieĒ is one of the best of 2012.

Atmosphere is important to me. And three albums in particular offered a distinct and wholly unique mood: Beach Houseís Bloom, Grimesí Visions and PoliÁaís Give You the Ghost. Warped, hazy and rapturous, these albums painted a surrealist soundscape on my aural canvas. Far out, manÖ

I donít know whether this column will be around next year, but I want to thank you all for your company. Itís been fun hanging out, and chatting about all things audio.

Have a loose and lax summer: read a good book, watch a classic movie, listen to jazz. Enjoy the sun, the beach, and that sweet-smelling ocean breeze. See you in the soundwaves.
This article first appeared in Issue 27, 2012.
Posted 5:59pm Sunday 7th October 2012 by Lukas Clark-Memler.