Signals...

Signals...-(n.)-..'sig-n?l..- We’ll start with what it is not. It is not a finalized thought, a finished product. It is not laying down for a relaxing nap because you’ve worked it all out. It is not the music your hangover lusts for. Here’s what it is. It is a pause in a philosophical conversation, not due to lack of thought, but rather of almost too much thought. It is a momentary pause in a flurry of arguments, while you try to choose the words you may later regret. It is the kind of music ...

Signals...-(n.)-..'sig-n?l..- We’ll start with what it is not. It is not a finalized thought, a finished product. It is not laying down for a relaxing nap because you’ve worked it all out. It is not the music your hangover lusts for. Here’s what it is. It is a pause in a philosophical conversation, not due to lack of thought, but rather of almost too much thought. It is a momentary pause in a flurry of arguments, while you try to choose the words you may later regret. It is the kind of music that makes you accelerate on the interstate. It’s an ellipsis. It’s incomplete. It’s you dealing with it, knowing it’s a struggle to find that completion, while coming to terms with the fact that it you probably won’t. It’s the beauty in that. It’s the heartbreak in that. It’s Signals… booking at signalsmusic@gmail.com