James Ferraro inches once more out of the NYC geoaffective webspace to translate its enveloping depression, exhaustion, and soul. For nine minutes, the urban density of Manhattan is given its sonic, affective foil: the stark, passingly beautiful emptiness between bizness and survival.
“The Earth is a weapon
But I can’t lie
The sky looks beautiful”
These cities are trying to kill (especially some of) us. I’m not at risk that way, but when I was doored yesterday, my bike helmet couldn’t protect my left ear from being split down the middle. The skyline stood tall around me, the lakeshore just ahead. Blood dripped onto the pavement, and a cool summer breeze moved my matting hair. Today, wrapping these headphones over my stitch-sewn ear, the initial wince of contact gives way to a comforting pressure: the panging, swooning waveform ooze of “Manhattan Future Ocean.”
I enjoy a King Cobra however it can be enjoyed, maybe as the day’s last light shudders at the thought that Frank Ocean won’t come through, that Ferraro and I drink 40s to fight claustrophobia, that there’s little to be salvaged from crashes. At least this “song” (suite, movement, spirit) was re-posted after its takedown. I do believe in the reformative breadth of oceans.
• James Ferraro: https://soundcloud.com/b-e-b-e-t-u-n-e
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