May 24
There are echoes about my town. Often from perches high above lone artisans squeeze musical love out their sides via their bagpipes. It happens most weekends around my town. I’m not really sure if the coordinate or take turns, but a few fellows round these parts will splay out melodies to the city at large and let us all just enjoy the bagpipes, the sounds of days gone by. They carry on their dulcet tones hope for days ahead where pop will fall into obscurity and beautiful organic music will once again come back to our lives. Until then I remain listening.