I couldn’t count the number of times I have listened to My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. It changed my perception of music in a way that is impossible to describe to modern ears now, and it cracked open the treasures of sampled sound for everyone thereafter. It didn’t hurt that it was at the center of the first trip I took alone.

I also want to note that the Greek Underworld was nothing like our Dantean view of Hell, a stain from that wicked and pernicious Comedy. It seems as if everyone just drank from the River Lethe and hung out. Not really my thing, but it’s better than the nine evil circles foisted on us by that Florentine devil.

Rome graffiti : Monti, Trastevere, Centro | August 2022