Sparklehorse may not have been my favourite musician but he was the only cure at certain times and this news has hit hard.
The gentle beauty of his music offered this listener the glimmer of first light, the fragility of a new day and an affirmation of the primacy of love.
But this was an illusion.
The songs of love were reflections of loss. Those suffused with the promise of morning, in truth, chased in vain the evanescent light of a dying day.
Listen when very late.
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