Friday Scribbles: Love Is the Space Between Sounds
Is this spacecake raver-speak or beatific profundity? We noticed it in the hallway at Tonic, one of New York's best rooms for experimental and avant-garde music, so there must be something more insightful to the statement than dilated-pupils gushings. Like, Hey, you on stage: when you stop your horn from squawking like a mutated chicken, I really love your band. Or Hey, my, wonderfully handsome date, I really do love you when you shut the fuck up. Or maybe it's something more profound about the many expressions of love like that Extreme song, "More Than Words?" You remember: two ugly longhairs bro-ing down in the studio and singing "More than words to show you feel/That your love for me is real" while their drummer reads a magazine? Oh, come on. I know you do.
Point being: This is heavy.
This is an Emily Dickinson quote. Awesome that somebody scribbled it on a wood partition. Why is it credited to YS?