From Brad E. Rose: »There are many times when I’m working on a music project that, in the moment, I’m not sure what I’m really doing. I don’t believe there’s some otherworldly power guiding my hands or thought processes unless our own subconscious could be classified as such a thing. It’s mostly about trying to be present at that moment and letting the ideas and sounds unfold in a way that isn’t forced. Oftentimes, after the fact, it will become clearer to me that certain feelings or thoughts were trying to find their way out, but my brain, as is often the case, wasn’t sure how to process them and let them go. Sound has often acted as that medium for me over the last three decades; a way to channel difficult thoughts into a language I can understand.
One evening as I watched the snowfall in mid-January, after thinking about what Annular Silhouettes was, it finally hit me. Recorded during the depths of 2020, during a time spent within the vicinity of where I live, it’s a bit of a love letter to the place I grew up. I live in the house that my grandparents lived in for over 20 years, that my grandfather gutted and rebuilt with his own hands. It’s the last place he ever called home and his spirit remains firmly etched into its walls. I live less than 10 minutes from my childhood home, where both my parents still live. I moved away and eventually came back. I am lucky to gain a different understanding of this place than I had growing up.
Place is a strange thing in the way it can influence and shape us, for better or worse. Nearly 20 years ago, when I moved back here with my partner, she would tell me how she couldn’t get over how big the sky felt in Oklahoma. I still think about that often. For a place that is stuck moving backward in so many ways, the possibilities above us can be endless beyond the forces dragging us back into the soil. We all find our way to the dirt eventually and one circle will close, but during my time inhabiting this space, I hope to have started a few new circles along the way so that the cycle will grow.«