All of that quarter inch unused blank tape that was in the rehearsal room, bought with band funds, none of them needed it now. They wouldn’t be congregating no more. No using up one another’s hard drives, sound clouds arid and dry, no eating up data on each others phones, memory now open, vast. Now? Each in a different corner of the world, in another room.
They would each find footing in the years after the break up, side projects that became mains or dead ends, collaborations in pain, sublime moments of sound captured just right or mixed poorly with new hands. Novels, installations, films, performances, but no bonding together, no adhesive, no blood let thick as thieves recording date. moved out, in a box, to the highest bidder. The miracle of tape. Landing, calling ahead, requesting landing. Landing in the right hands. April 19th.