UK, 1975, minimalism
Side A: Where beauty and sadness intersect, where memory presses the hand of tragedy, where pain and pleasure mingle until the two are indistinguishable, and tears are the wine of blessedness. I guess it’s funny how pacific the depths of the Atlantic can be. Side B: Poignant that a homeless man sings about Jesus never failing him. I guess it makes sense, since Our Blessed Lord was homeless, too. The music Bryars sets this weakly- yet beautifully-sung phrase to is like teeth back in the old geezer’s gums, like flesh back on his withered bones.