The return of Everett True | 105. Björk (“Singing is like a celebration of oxygen”)
Damn. It’s out now. Did you hear? It’s been dancing through my imagination the last few days: spectral and decaying and melancholy and alert and focused on details far tinier than I recall – glistening and fleeting and soured with soaring strings and seared by emotion. Imperfect, the way sun dancing across dappled water always […]