MONDO, the magazine I edit at school got a promo copy of this album from Three Gut Records (thanks to Josh our promotions manager). I’m listening to it right now for the first time. Out the window it's raining on Bathurst Street and the world moves with a kind of harmony we normally attribute to a God or movies. An ambulance sirens past and a cello swells and I can smell the cookie store downstairs like I’m ten and my mom has the day off. Water and oil stains make washed-out blue and yellow abstracts in a parking space frame outside my window. I can imagine my laundry in the laundromat next door flopping and spinning in a waterlogged cylinder. I can hear the neon red “After Dark Video” sign buzzing across the street. The wet sloshes and slaps, the intermittent zaps, they’re accompaniment to the acoustic guitar, friendly string arrangements, and Jim Guthrie’s innocent voice. It all makes sense and I feel like I can just curl up foetal on my couch and live the rest of my life in a world where the air itself is a thick smoke of nostalgia, hope, and contentment. Here I go.

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