Kennebec
Leaving the Canyons

Good times pass, memories remain. Sometimes it's the important people or beautiful landscapes that fade away, while what stays are regrets.

Do you know when, while editing a holiday video, you find yourself emotionally gazing at still frames of landscapes you missed?
Stunning landscapes, like a sunset over the rocky and dry hills surrounding Cusco, the long smoky trail left by a rickety bus speeding along a dusty road in Mpumalanga, or the morning light filtering through the walls of Antelope Canyon, making it that magical place which serves as the perfect desktop background?

I have lost many such memories, engrossed as I was in watching reality through an optical viewfinder or a small LCD screen, yet seeing those images warms my heart every time as if I were right there.

Kennebec, the name of an American potato variety, is also the moniker of New York producer Eric Phillips. It seems he has a penchant for bucolic settings. A member of the Night Time Stories roster, a label home to many artists including the much more famous Khruangbin, he released his second album Without Star Or Compass with them.
His "Leaving the Canyon" has the same effect on me, evoking both the bitterness of having missed a moment of rare beauty and the sweet nostalgia of revisiting those familiar environments and skies I thought lost.
This is a midtempo track, electronic but with clear folk sounds and ambient atmospheres.
Future Islands frontman Samuel T. Herring sings in it with his leather-tanned voice. His voice is perfect for this track: melodious and light despite its warm and guttural timbre.
The visit to the valley of memories begins.

An enchanted flute is played in a rainforest by a Peruvian with a conservatory diploma (let me believe that!).
It's a brief teaser of the "noble savage myth" mood to be found in the track, but it's just a hint: it ends as soon as the saturated pad enters to mark the time. A few chords are slightly hinted at in the intro, one of the most atmospheric parts of the track.

Here comes the drum groove (whether sampled or played) with that syncopated world music feel, but much slowed down.
When the drums kick in, the pad makes way for the slow turn of a slightly compressed bass that whispers the melodic line's accents in the background, blending perfectly with the kick and becoming the true soul of the track.

Siren voices lead us to a chorus, the true peak of the track.
Here's where our Peruvian flutist gives his all: we reach the track's climax with the high flute notes, full of pathos and emotional suffering, much like what good Samuel sings.

Sure, there's pain for losing those who don't want us around anymore, but this escape into the wild has made us mature.
"No fear, but hope, you'll find me here / I leave a light on" Samuel tells us, while the fear of finding one's dimension only by departing is what creates tension and movement in the track's lyrics.
Perhaps it talks about ending it all, or maybe just about letting a friend or partner go in peace, or maybe simply about leaving a light on and a door open and accepting failure and moving on, and now we know that we don't want fear to decide for us.

The sirens return, the echoes of a flute gone like the good times, and the track closes like collapsing exhausted into Morpheus's arms, struck by sudden, sweet, and restful sleep.

We have reached the end of our visit to the canyon spread of memories. We thank our guide today, Samuel.
We have captured many beautiful shots, which we'll review once we're back in our room, marveling at how blind we were when we should have been seeing.

As I write this review, it's just past midnight and my grandfather Ferruccio has just turned exactly 100 years old.
Tell me if this isn't a unique and wonderful moment to capture or photograph, or if it's not instead something to live through and, in due course... let go.