Emotionally corrective musical experience

There's a certain irony in referencing an article written by someone who lives in St. Louis, for a magazine based in Canada, about a band that is from here in Austin. But Jeremy Huggins' article, in Comment Magazine, about Balmorhea, is a great introduction to this Austin band and their instrumental music. His are good words for describing the experience of this music that lacks words.

"So I tell you, without anxiety or fear or shame, that I like the music of Balmorhea. It's grand without being complicated. If this music were a place, the west Texas desert and hill country certainly fits. The up-tempo songs, with their occasional handclaps and lifting strings and furious pianos, embolden my spirit, making me long for thunderstorms and purging. The down-tempo songs remind me of my mortality, make me want to stop and consider what will last.

Some of the songs make me cry when I realize that the ugly ways I often use time and language don't measure up to the goodness packed into six minutes of music. Some of the songs make me long for certain seasons. Sometimes the music takes too long to build; sometimes the tension is just right. Sometimes it feels like a hint of breeze in a humid summer; sometimes it feels like thunder.

Go listen to a song, and you'll hear soothing finger-picked guitars and maybe piano and cello or upright bass, maybe a combination of them all. The best way I can describe some songs is that they let air in."

As we approach the record of 100+ degree days, I don't know anyone who couldn't stand for a little "hint of breeze;" songs that "let air in."