Jamie, I too, have often asked myself the very same questions. Who listens, who reads, who cares? I am writing about music, art, and other things that elicit and evoke strong emotions, or that I love and care deeply about. I am not writing about albums, artists, films etc. that are particularly well-known, but they still deserve a place to be seen and heard.
Regarding your Substack - I may not listen to or know much about extreme metal, Japanese noise, or underground skate punk - but I always enjoy reading *and* listening to the clips/videos you include. And, there is also plenty of overlap with our music taste, knowledge, and collection that I respect & value what you share. So, I appreciate you & this space you have carved out. Thank you, for the energy, time, and dedication. I am listening/reading.
Now, I DO know Trimble and own both of his albums consisting of early 80s acid folk/loner psych. His music and voice are eerie, haunting, and deeply affecting. There are other things about Trimble that evoke bigger, deeper, more complex conversations, but that is for another time, another space.
That's what keeps it going, Michael. Glad you appreciate it, because I appreciate your open ears! Trimble is really something, I only came across him over the past few years but I love how earnest everything I've heard is—I'm just a sucker for the outsiders.
Your post led me to an article about Trimble, and how his music was lost in obscurity for years, and just now being somewhat unearthed. It reminded me of Henry Darger, the outsider artist who, it turned out , had been drawing his fantasy world for years, throughout his life as a janitor, and squirreling his artwork away in his shabby little apartment until it was found after his death. Now his story has been documented in film and is quite well known. But why did he do it, tolerating a lifetime of obscurity? And isn't there a parallel with your Sermons...you wonder yourself if anybody out there even notices. The same question I hear from artist friends over and over...why do we do it? (I'm not gonna try to answer that.) A related question, though, is why are we so attracted to the obscure once we unearth it? the rare old vinyl, the painting under the painting, the city under the sand. It's like finding a buried treasure, a secret only a few know. We hoard it and love it...then once it gets out to the hoi polloi, we kind of...'naaah, bored alread.' So maybe yeah, you gotta get a job like you say, but meanwhile treasure the obscure and the secret faithful who come to worship at the secret chapel.
That is actually something to think about though, the secret garden element of finding these people and their work. Maybe Henry Darger is an unconscious patron saint!
Like you and most people who make things and send them out into the world for other people to see, I have asked these questions many times. The answer changes, but I try to remember that "more" is never the same as "enough," and on the days when I have the mental capacity to moderate my brain chemicals, "enough" is up to me.
Jamie, I too, have often asked myself the very same questions. Who listens, who reads, who cares? I am writing about music, art, and other things that elicit and evoke strong emotions, or that I love and care deeply about. I am not writing about albums, artists, films etc. that are particularly well-known, but they still deserve a place to be seen and heard.
Regarding your Substack - I may not listen to or know much about extreme metal, Japanese noise, or underground skate punk - but I always enjoy reading *and* listening to the clips/videos you include. And, there is also plenty of overlap with our music taste, knowledge, and collection that I respect & value what you share. So, I appreciate you & this space you have carved out. Thank you, for the energy, time, and dedication. I am listening/reading.
Now, I DO know Trimble and own both of his albums consisting of early 80s acid folk/loner psych. His music and voice are eerie, haunting, and deeply affecting. There are other things about Trimble that evoke bigger, deeper, more complex conversations, but that is for another time, another space.
Cheers for taking the time to do what you do.
That's what keeps it going, Michael. Glad you appreciate it, because I appreciate your open ears! Trimble is really something, I only came across him over the past few years but I love how earnest everything I've heard is—I'm just a sucker for the outsiders.
Your post led me to an article about Trimble, and how his music was lost in obscurity for years, and just now being somewhat unearthed. It reminded me of Henry Darger, the outsider artist who, it turned out , had been drawing his fantasy world for years, throughout his life as a janitor, and squirreling his artwork away in his shabby little apartment until it was found after his death. Now his story has been documented in film and is quite well known. But why did he do it, tolerating a lifetime of obscurity? And isn't there a parallel with your Sermons...you wonder yourself if anybody out there even notices. The same question I hear from artist friends over and over...why do we do it? (I'm not gonna try to answer that.) A related question, though, is why are we so attracted to the obscure once we unearth it? the rare old vinyl, the painting under the painting, the city under the sand. It's like finding a buried treasure, a secret only a few know. We hoard it and love it...then once it gets out to the hoi polloi, we kind of...'naaah, bored alread.' So maybe yeah, you gotta get a job like you say, but meanwhile treasure the obscure and the secret faithful who come to worship at the secret chapel.
That is actually something to think about though, the secret garden element of finding these people and their work. Maybe Henry Darger is an unconscious patron saint!
Like you and most people who make things and send them out into the world for other people to see, I have asked these questions many times. The answer changes, but I try to remember that "more" is never the same as "enough," and on the days when I have the mental capacity to moderate my brain chemicals, "enough" is up to me.
Enough is up to you, you're right. That's a great thing to remember, and so freeing. God, we all need to feel free.