Bid the warbling Nine retire:
Venus, string thy servant’s lyre:
Love shall be my endless theme:
Pleasure shall triumph over fame:
And when these maxims I decline,
Apollo, may thy fate be mine:
May I grasp at empty praise;
And the lose the nymph, to gain the bays.
“I like exploring discomfort, “mistakes,” what happens when they are left in, incorporated. Silence is a mistake, we’re supposed to cut out the negative space on an album, in a conversation. I think I’ve spent much of my life feeling like I was a mistake, needed to change myself in order to fit in, which of course would involve talking more or better. Still struggle with it. I suppose in the silence there is a lot of trying to come to terms with myself, examining a need for slowness and space. This music is a room that I take care of, I help decide what is accepted. Here distortion and mistakes, silence, deep sadness and misunderstanding, they all have a place. They all fit in to the pattern.”
Liz Harris