Alone in a Room:

Sometimes, I listen to Arma Secreta and feel sad inside.

I’ve never been good at letting go; I’ve never been okay with seeing something I love disappear.  Music inspires loyalty in the listener—we identify with it in profound and meaningful ways because we become part of its mythos.  Music, by itself, can be an incredible thing.  But without a listener, it exists only for its own sake.  With a listener, it casts a longer shadow.  The sake of it becomes big.

So what happens when the listener is still loyal, but the music is gone?  Sure, the CD still spins.  But the band is no more.  The shows cease.  When you share it with others, they ask “Who are these guys?  When was this recorded?”  The answers can make you feel like the only person in a very empty room.

Let’s think to ourselves instead, how am I not alone?  In what ways am I more than one?  I want to watch a video and remember, really remember, the way it felt when you all were beside me, fists in the air, grinning like mad men.