I had a stressful job that required I fly one day every week as well as deliver my normal workload. I had to get up at 5am, run to the airport, fly 2 hours, get to the company site, put in 8 hours, then reverse it and go into my regular work for the rest of the week. I would often listen to this on the plane while doing my morning prayers then taking a little nap. How many mornings did I watch the sun come up at 30,000ft to this song? I don't know. It was beautiful each time and reminded me to be thankful of the miracles I experienced each day. I quit that job after a year - and it was the best choice of my life. I hope we have learned through covid that kind of in-person and stressful face time is no longer needed. For the last 2 years we have done our jobs without needing that kind of life-shortening stress.
When asked what he will miss the most when he’s gone during an interview with podcast Five Questions, McBride said surprises. “Maybe you’re in a matter of fact mood, you’re driving home from doing a bunch of errands, you see somebody walking their dog, and the cat has gone on the walk with dog and the owner, and she’s running past them, showing off, scratching the trees. And you suddenly take delight in that,” he explained. “The weird appreciation for the mundane or the banal. That’s what I’ll miss the most. The times when you can surprise yourself and notice things that seem quite matter of fact but are actually quite beautiful depending on how you look at it.” RIP, Brian McBride.
I listened to this album on repeat, probably 2000 times, whilst stationed for a year in outback Australia during 2014 where I worked alone and only had a satellite phone for contact with the outside world
well put. I've been listening to SOTL for about 13 years, and they've become woven into the fabric of my life in many ways. inspiring, healing. I even drive Uber and play their music pretty constantly. it's the soundtrack to much of my reflection. many thanks to them...
Part 3 makes me feel so incredibly melancholy that it’s almost difficult to listen to. Very haunting, beautiful sounds. If people hear music when they die, I imagine it would sound exactly like that.
This album they really merged those repetitive soundscape drones of theirs with beautiful melodic movements. The middle parts of this song as well Song for Cubs just find this pocket that could go on forever.
Whereas all other ambient music I know of still sounds like produced by humans, Stars of the Lid sound like they have just captured the natural humming of space, reverberations ex nihilo.
This is the best summary of Stars of the Lid's music I have heard yet. Notes linger for aeons, yet never overstay their welcome, barely even able to be called "notes" because of how silkily they caress our sonic homonculii. It's almost like the notes always existed; the music is just an auditory flashlight, illuminating the soundscape as it passes by
so well put. SOTL have a few masterpieces in particular that exhibit this depth, somehow despondent and.. utterly transcendental. I can imagine the patients of the Austin Texas Mental Hospital wandering the grounds, portending some deep reality that cannot be put into words.
I have heard strings "weep" in pieces of music many times, but never in the same way they do here. During the first movement in particular, the strings actually sound like they're out of fighting energy - like life has really just beaten them down. They sluggishly wail along in a puddle of mourning. The slight pitch bending and exaggerated, droning bowing style make it sound like the music is actually inhaling and exhaling, with barely controlled crying during every exhale. Maybe it's meant to represent an actual patient's perspective? I'm sure the mood is more complex on this track - it's not just sadness, but an audio transcription of a place and experience. The sorrow I hear in the first part is just something to behold, though. Wow. The second movement feels like a carousel of memories flashing through someone's head - making peace and meditating. The third movement feels like the comedown after an emotional catharsis or difficult time period.
There was a kid I peripherally knew in high school, Westley, who was close with people I was close to, but whom I didn't really get the chance to know. The few times I did interact with him it was immediately evident he was a gentle, deep thinker. There was clearly a lot going on under the surface. I think of one time I visited the college he went to, an hour away from mine, to hang out with a girl I liked. We wandered around the dorm buildings, at one point happening to visit his room. I asked him why he had a box set of Toro y Moi 7"s if he didn't own a record player and he just said, freshman-year drunk as fuck, "the aesthetic beauty!". The tone he said it with was like a wild eyed genius 1800s scientist explaining a grand theory to one of his uncomprehending peers- as if it were the most clear, self-evident truth. In his senior year he climbed on top of the school's music building (he made experimental stuff, was in the Gamelan band there) and self-immolated and died. I was sad I never got to know him - it seemed like there was a lot to know, and he was very young, and the way he went out so violent. For a few years after, every time I listened to Pt. 1 of this song, I'd imagine a sort of nebula in space - a golden hue the same as the album cover. In my imagination, all the points of light in this nebula were actually made of whatever substance souls are made of, and his soul was up there. My brother committed suicide a few years later, too, and then whenever I heard the song, I would imagine his essence joining Westley's. I think this is a coping mechanism - I don't believe in souls or essences or whatever, and am a materialist. But, surely as the many synapses in my head and the sensations in my body are complex enough that they make me feel like I am a self, listening to this song makes that little afterlife in my head kick back into motion like the projector lights of a planetarium, and they get to be alive up there again, even if momentarily. Thanks for sitting in my blacklight-poster covered room and hitting my bong with me.
a beautiful story, thank you for sharing. it feels strange. albums like this for me are a type of assurance that the soul does indeed exist. something transpersonal, at the least. I'm curious, not that you have any need to explain yourself to me, but do you feel like your belief in the purely material has been with you for a long time, is it something that has formed because of specific experiences, is it something that has changed significantly? I find my beliefs changing over time, mostly towards a respect and enshrining of the sacred, the transpersonal, that those are indeed valuable experiences and facets of life, if dangerous in their own way.
May your brother and Westley rest in golden, aesthetic beauty and peace. I am sorry for your losses. I lost an important person in my life to suicide; your perspective is especially resonant with and meaningful to me
When I hear part one, the first thing that came to my mind was someone being rushed to the hospital in the back of an ambulance with the EKG monitor indicating that their heart rate was slowing down and close to death. When the 2:00 mark hits, that's when they finally arrive at the hospital and rushed into the ICU. When part 2 starts, that's when the hospital staff begins surgery in attempt to save the individual. The time of the surgery takes until the 14:50 mark which they successfully save the individual. When part 3 starts, the individual wakes up and recovery begins. At 20:30 until the end, the individual is discharged, gets up, and exits the hospital to go home. They are given another chance in life and continue their recovery in the outside world. In the beginning was hopelessness, and in the end was restoring their hope. A perfect start and ending to this song. That's the scenario I've always imagined that could be connected to this beautiful music piece by Stars of the Lid.
I had a stressful job that required I fly one day every week as well as deliver my normal workload. I had to get up at 5am, run to the airport, fly 2 hours, get to the company site, put in 8 hours, then reverse it and go into my regular work for the rest of the week.
I would often listen to this on the plane while doing my morning prayers then taking a little nap. How many mornings did I watch the sun come up at 30,000ft to this song? I don't know. It was beautiful each time and reminded me to be thankful of the miracles I experienced each day.
I quit that job after a year - and it was the best choice of my life. I hope we have learned through covid that kind of in-person and stressful face time is no longer needed. For the last 2 years we have done our jobs without needing that kind of life-shortening stress.
amen
And this right here is why music is important. Beautiful
My fav flying music
When asked what he will miss the most when he’s gone during an interview with podcast Five Questions, McBride said surprises. “Maybe you’re in a matter of fact mood, you’re driving home from doing a bunch of errands, you see somebody walking their dog, and the cat has gone on the walk with dog and the owner, and she’s running past them, showing off, scratching the trees. And you suddenly take delight in that,” he explained. “The weird appreciation for the mundane or the banal. That’s what I’ll miss the most. The times when you can surprise yourself and notice things that seem quite matter of fact but are actually quite beautiful depending on how you look at it.” RIP, Brian McBride.
I listened to this album on repeat, probably 2000 times, whilst stationed for a year in outback Australia during 2014 where I worked alone and only had a satellite phone for contact with the outside world
Requiescat in pace 🙏
Brian Edward McBride (1970 - August 2023) aged 53
Anyone know what he died of?
@@mattfife6209 According to his family, the coroner’s report cited natural causes, but I can't find anything more about it.
When i expierence a failure i always listen to this.
It comforts me and make me feel that i will get better despite how fucked up things are.
I love that
This is truly a monumental piece of ambient music. It's become a way of life for me. Thank you for uploading this!
well put. I've been listening to SOTL for about 13 years, and they've become woven into the fabric of my life in many ways. inspiring, healing. I even drive Uber and play their music pretty constantly. it's the soundtrack to much of my reflection. many thanks to them...
Part 3 makes me feel so incredibly melancholy that it’s almost difficult to listen to. Very haunting, beautiful sounds. If people hear music when they die, I imagine it would sound exactly like that.
This album they really merged those repetitive soundscape drones of theirs with beautiful melodic movements. The middle parts of this song as well Song for Cubs just find this pocket that could go on forever.
Whereas all other ambient music I know of still sounds like produced by humans, Stars of the Lid sound like they have just captured the natural humming of space, reverberations ex nihilo.
This is the best summary of Stars of the Lid's music I have heard yet. Notes linger for aeons, yet never overstay their welcome, barely even able to be called "notes" because of how silkily they caress our sonic homonculii. It's almost like the notes always existed; the music is just an auditory flashlight, illuminating the soundscape as it passes by
When I need mental healing, I come to this.
if sadness, despair, hopelessness had a melody, this would be it....what a brilliant piece of music.
so well put. SOTL have a few masterpieces in particular that exhibit this depth, somehow despondent and.. utterly transcendental. I can imagine the patients of the Austin Texas Mental Hospital wandering the grounds, portending some deep reality that cannot be put into words.
I have heard strings "weep" in pieces of music many times, but never in the same way they do here. During the first movement in particular, the strings actually sound like they're out of fighting energy - like life has really just beaten them down. They sluggishly wail along in a puddle of mourning. The slight pitch bending and exaggerated, droning bowing style make it sound like the music is actually inhaling and exhaling, with barely controlled crying during every exhale. Maybe it's meant to represent an actual patient's perspective? I'm sure the mood is more complex on this track - it's not just sadness, but an audio transcription of a place and experience. The sorrow I hear in the first part is just something to behold, though. Wow. The second movement feels like a carousel of memories flashing through someone's head - making peace and meditating. The third movement feels like the comedown after an emotional catharsis or difficult time period.
There was a kid I peripherally knew in high school, Westley, who was close with people I was close to, but whom I didn't really get the chance to know. The few times I did interact with him it was immediately evident he was a gentle, deep thinker. There was clearly a lot going on under the surface.
I think of one time I visited the college he went to, an hour away from mine, to hang out with a girl I liked. We wandered around the dorm buildings, at one point happening to visit his room. I asked him why he had a box set of Toro y Moi 7"s if he didn't own a record player and he just said, freshman-year drunk as fuck, "the aesthetic beauty!". The tone he said it with was like a wild eyed genius 1800s scientist explaining a grand theory to one of his uncomprehending peers- as if it were the most clear, self-evident truth. In his senior year he climbed on top of the school's music building (he made experimental stuff, was in the Gamelan band there) and self-immolated and died. I was sad I never got to know him - it seemed like there was a lot to know, and he was very young, and the way he went out so violent. For a few years after, every time I listened to Pt. 1 of this song, I'd imagine a sort of nebula in space - a golden hue the same as the album cover. In my imagination, all the points of light in this nebula were actually made of whatever substance souls are made of, and his soul was up there.
My brother committed suicide a few years later, too, and then whenever I heard the song, I would imagine his essence joining Westley's. I think this is a coping mechanism - I don't believe in souls or essences or whatever, and am a materialist. But, surely as the many synapses in my head and the sensations in my body are complex enough that they make me feel like I am a self, listening to this song makes that little afterlife in my head kick back into motion like the projector lights of a planetarium, and they get to be alive up there again, even if momentarily.
Thanks for sitting in my blacklight-poster covered room and hitting my bong with me.
i dont do drugs, i dont belive in it - by reading your text, i share your sorrow, i get comfort by recognising my own sorrow,
the bong line was a joke my friend. i am glad you are comforted.
@@andyz9793 Cheers,.
No worries.
a beautiful story, thank you for sharing.
it feels strange. albums like this for me are a type of assurance that the soul does indeed exist. something transpersonal, at the least. I'm curious, not that you have any need to explain yourself to me, but do you feel like your belief in the purely material has been with you for a long time, is it something that has formed because of specific experiences, is it something that has changed significantly? I find my beliefs changing over time, mostly towards a respect and enshrining of the sacred, the transpersonal, that those are indeed valuable experiences and facets of life, if dangerous in their own way.
May your brother and Westley rest in golden, aesthetic beauty and peace. I am sorry for your losses. I lost an important person in my life to suicide; your perspective is especially resonant with and meaningful to me
this picture elevates the song so much
I love this so much. Part 3 is an extremely satisfying conclusion
Amazing song series. Really makes me feel I'm in a big city at night, especially Austin. Love the picture choice too.
Helps with processing and thought 💭 what a great tune
When I hear part one, the first thing that came to my mind was someone being rushed to the hospital in the back of an ambulance with the EKG monitor indicating that their heart rate was slowing down and close to death. When the 2:00 mark hits, that's when they finally arrive at the hospital and rushed into the ICU. When part 2 starts, that's when the hospital staff begins surgery in attempt to save the individual. The time of the surgery takes until the 14:50 mark which they successfully save the individual. When part 3 starts, the individual wakes up and recovery begins. At 20:30 until the end, the individual is discharged, gets up, and exits the hospital to go home. They are given another chance in life and continue their recovery in the outside world. In the beginning was hopelessness, and in the end was restoring their hope. A perfect start and ending to this song. That's the scenario I've always imagined that could be connected to this beautiful music piece by Stars of the Lid.
Wow. That's exactly what I was going to say. lol
Mental Hospital
Many thanks for uploading this!
rip Brian
Oneohtrix point never - submersible
Whom took this amazing photograph? And where/what is it?
The photo is mine. The place is the natural park of L'Albufera in Valencia, Spain. Thank you :)
Could you possibly PM a high-def version of it to me?
@@bdpvd I lost this photo :(
@@carlospc7356 you could go to the same place and take another one
reflection,, , great comments below,, thanks everyone