Visual artist James Brooks crafted this gorgeous piece to accompany his visual art concerning mapping and cartography. Think boundaries and surface area infused with gently ruminative guitar licks over looped pedals. It is in keeping with the theme of one of my favourite novels of the decade, The Map and the Territory by Michel Houlebecq - in which an artist is doing amazingly successfully in depicting Michelin maps, is dating a Russian model - but the boiler in his house is broken and keeps fucking up - the text a paean to try and find some structure in ones own existential crisis.
Luckily with Roman Roads, no shit hits any fan, as the burnished film on these licks oscillate and oscillate. The album actually leaves the artists house on opeenr "Before the Kingsland Road" and takes some existent routes and others philosophical. I'll pander now:
When does one go?
Where does I depart
How come I didn't hang the clothes out to dry and instead you put them on the clothes horse?
When will you send that fax?
Map me out my future would you?
Thanks.
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