axolotl
Nunquam non paratus
Years after Sam was reveling in his newfound Pride, I was still searching for my Budd.
www.npr.org
I would show you a photo of late-1930s-to-40s Victorville, where Harold lived as a youth, if I can find any.
Oh, here are a couple.

Victorville, looking North toward Bell Mountain

Seventh Street, Victorville
As a wise man once thought to himself, "It's hard to know where Victorville ends and Apple Valley begins."
Harold Budd's Music Was Heaven On Earth
The ambient composer and Brian Eno collaborator died this week at the age of 84 from complications brought on by COVID-19.
Despite this proclivity for building artistic relationships based in mutual trust and warm friendship, Budd primarily steered a lone course. Alongside the pair of Eno projects, the characteristic core of his work are the solo records, albums like Abandoned Cities, Lovely Thunder, The White Arcades and Luxa. These are records that not only refute the idea that artists ought to develop, they in some profound way challenge the idea of progress itself, hinting that the true goal of art is to achieve suspension from time altogether.
Although its aura is ethereal and unworldly, Budd's music is actually an exemplary form of humanly useful music. When the mundane urgencies of life, or the nonsense of our political culture, get you frazzled, which is pretty much every day these days, you can put on this music and imbibe its stillness and grace. His records are exactly the kind of music you'd play for calm and solace during a bereavement — or at a service sending someone to their final resting place. Harold Budd sounds like heaven on earth.
I would show you a photo of late-1930s-to-40s Victorville, where Harold lived as a youth, if I can find any.
Oh, here are a couple.

Victorville, looking North toward Bell Mountain

Seventh Street, Victorville
As a wise man once thought to himself, "It's hard to know where Victorville ends and Apple Valley begins."
