The ‘80s revival genres (as discussed before in our Lowlight 2 review) can be defined by their concern with celebrating the past. But that’s only half of the equation; the other half is defined by their concern with modernizing these sounds. Or rather, the way they get naturally modernized, and thus provided with a smooth, shiny coat of varnish. This happens naturally because these sounds are being recreated in modern machines, by people who were born surrounded by these sounds, plus a ton of others.
One aspect (often overlooked but very relevant) of the modern half of the equation, is the internet presence of the artists involved. Much like the artists themselves, these genres were born in the era of information. This means they can draw inspiration from the most unexpected of places. And not only that: this creates a musical cross-pollination of the most rich variety.
Which brings us to the album in question. Hailing from Iran, and drawing inspiration from italo disco, j-pop and eurobeat, comes Tame Werewolf with his sophomore album, Phasermania. He showcases his versatility by covering a wide range of genres, with some very interesting inbetweens. He covers an equally wide array of emotional passages too; From the peppy, almost smug “Time Machine Arcade” to the vaporwave moodiness in “Lover Ghost”, with some robust basslines and futuristic-sounding synths sprinkled generously throughout, Phasermania aims to have something everyone can enjoy.
Of particular note are the album’s eponymous track and “Lost in Lush Heavens”. It is in these two tracks where one can truly appreciate what the cross-pollination mentioned before can create. The former, for putting the listener in a state of enjoyable disorientation from the get-go. This is something few artists are truly comfortable doing, especially with more rhythmic songs. It’s reminiscent, in intention, of Sungazer’s “Drunk“. The latter for having a distinctly melancholic tint, while being as rhythmic as anything one could expect within synthwave or even future funk. Again, not something easily found; an assessment that very well fits the artist, in the best way possible.
Vįr+üål Åįrßñß & h º r ¡ z º n щ ¡ r e l e s s have paired up to create a very interesting mix. While h º r ¡ z º n щ ¡ r e l e s s will prefer a more “traditional” approach (if there is such a thing within the genre), Vįr+üål Åįrßñß’s use of samples creates a contrast that is definitive to the album. He uses a variety of samples but prefers to keep the voices at their original pitch while slowing them down. This, coupled with slow backing tunes and reverbs, creates a subtle, but easily identifiable sultry mood. One can picture a couple about to have sex for the first time to ✻ ✼ ✽ L0vįng❧Y0u ✻ ✼ ✽.. There’s a clear feeling of desire, but also an intention to enjoy every moment of the experience.
This is presented in alternation with h º r ¡ z º n щ ¡ r e l e s s’s equally relaxed, but more melancholic work. The pitch shift and slowed-down samples combine to create a distinct feeling of tiredness that is prevalent in the genre. Or rather, a feeling of satisfied weariness, like one would have after a concert or after finishing a marathon. There is a certain liminality to this “half” of the album, created in part by the slow vocals, as well as a feeling of finality.
The two sides of the album are connected by a feeling of deep relaxation, even if caused by very different things. With these two moods, similar in form but so different in feeling, these two artists have created an interesting experience. Perhaps it mimics the mixed feelings one might have while enjoying the company of a certain someone one has a history with. Or perhaps the remembrance of a lost love, remembering the good times one had while remembering the current loneliness.
Carpenter Brut mentioned in an interview with Synthspiria that his music doesn’t have an insane number of fans, and the reason he gave for this was:
“People need to be ‘in on the prank’ to enjoy what [he does]”.
At first glance, this could be chalked up to a common behavior with some music fans, where the listener is expected to “dig deeper” about the artist in question, and enjoy the works more often for their background than for the work itself. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Leather Teeth is an fascinating album because, when compared to the artist’s previous work, some might feel it’s Brut’s worst so far. Too far departed from the last albums, too cynical, too different. And that impression could remain.. until the listener sees the videos that go along with each song. The videos present the audience with a unique story in a format very seldom seen in synthwave. The classic story of the bullied nerd, turned to darkness and out for revenge.. Presented through the lens of everything and everyone else,a complete outsider perspective. It created context for the album. And then it all makes sense. It’s what brings it all together.
Up until that moment, if the listener had disliked the album, it’s because he was the butt of the “prank”; The previous albums had already been setting us up, in a sense, with a characteristic influence of 80’s imagery and musical tropes. One is led to believe, in a way, that music back then was exactly like his current music. But in reality, it has a thick padding of modern sounds, cadences, and generally different tropes. This album completes the “joke” by making the 80’s influence much clearer and removing a good bit of the padding, thus making the listener question himself “Oh yeah? You like 80’s stuff? Then you like this, right?”
A confrontation like this would normally turn people away, but here’s the genius of it: it makes sure to invite you to be in on it. By adapting what remains from the aforementioned padding, it demonstrates the merit of the material that inspired it, so as to say “You DO like it, you just didn’t know”. And thus, you are now in on it. Much in the same way one can become a fan of Rawhead Rex, or Child’s Play past the 2nd movie, one can become a fan of Leather Teeth through the same equilibrium of sarcasm and earnest appreciation that is present in so much current media.
Anyway, on to the album!
As mentioned before, Leather Teeth marks a departure from “pure” darksynth for Carpenter Brut. This album has a genius mixture of era-appropriate genres, ranging from hair metal to schmoozy, slow synth jams, so as to show a number of different “inputs” about the story we’re shown in the videos. The videos themselves also cover a wide range of styles, from infomercials to a crowning moment at a MTV-Esque music award show.
(Note: We’ve presented these NOT in the order presented in the album, but as they make more sense chronologically speaking. We’ve also taken care to put the videos in, as the experience simply isn’t complete without them!)
First up, the slowest song in the album. “Leather Teeth” is very grandiose, very over the top, and is the closest to CB’s older work. The inclusion of the choir is especially notable as it establishes a leitmotif of sorts. It’s as if the song was heralding the coming of a great calamity, and the video shows this perfectly. It serves you different pieces of footage of different dead jocks and cheerleaders, paired with flashes of newspapers reporting on these mysterious killings. And then at the very end, just to completely drive the point home, the video lays it very clearly for you: No one is safe from the Midwich Monster.
Here, the beat picks up the pace slightly; “Cheerleader Effect” shows the “descent to hell” of our main character, Bret Halford. The song itself has this rock ballad feel to it, as if to try to show Bret’s sensitivity, or loss thereof. The video shows parts of Bret’s life, how he gets beat up by bullies, how he’s in love with Kendra McCornish, the cheerleader, who, in keeping with genre tradition, wouldn’t even fart in his general direction. But here’s the interesting spin, the video makes a point of showing Kendra being slutty and all, partly to show what hurt Bret so much, and partly to show, with some moderation so as to not blow its load too early, the excess of the era, a common theme throughout the album.
The next song, “Monday Hunt,” picks up the pace again. The galloping beat, super common in metal and rock, suits the theme perfectly — as if to put you in Bret’s place, charging a horde of enemies and mowing them down. Regarding the video: Suffice it to say that YT had a choice between the original and a version in which brand logos and dismembered limbs crudely cover everything, and it chose the latter (Be sure to read the apology letter at the beginning, written with utmost sincerity and regret.) It shows how Bret kills, one by one, all the jocks that tormented him, including Kendra herself. The interesting thing here is, Bret kills everyone in his list here. The crux of his story isn’t his revenge; that gets dealt with as fast as possible. By the end, we see Bret fully embracing his persona, by completely tearing off his burnt skin (warning: Utopia District does not endorse removing scar tissue or damaged skin for dramatic purposes or otherwise. Seriously, don’t.)
“Inferno Galore” is also very much like CB’s former work, very fast, very heavy on the synth. Again, picking up the pace, as if to show everything coming to a boil, slowly but surely. The video hits the nail millimetrically on the head. Now we see a much bigger interest in showing the environment in which Bret and everyone else was in. And, once more, the decadence of the era, now much more intensely. There is a hard shift from kinda light-hearted to full dark near the end of the song. This is, again, so you don’t forget the looming threat of Leather Teeth who, even if he already has embraced being a rockstar, still engages in being able to do whatever he wants and will just kill for pleasure.
Songs keep getting faster still, we’re coming close to an end. We now see the second time vocals are used. Pure 80’s hair metal tropes here, as expected from Bret’s band, “Leather Patrol.” Everything from the lyrics to the beat of the song and the instrumentation screams hair metal. Except, perhaps, for the drums in certain parts, where they sound decidedly synthesized, so as to stay “in-genre” and not just make a hair metal song. We’re treated to some insight into the life of excess that Leather Patrol lives, from crowded concerts to steamy exchanges with fans.
A well-deserved break, a much more calm and much more cynically comical song. We’re fully on keytar territory here, and the beat is casual like a month’s end Friday at the office. It oozes of sleaze, like a Cocaine Cowboy. Pure 80’s sound tropes all around. The song is a shameless tribute to synthpop and the video keeps up by being a full tribute to 80s commercials. We have scantily clad girls with guns, mascots, and a nice news report on Rev. Godshyne’s fall from grace and eventual grisly death. It’s not very clear whether Leather Teeth killed him or if he just drunkenly stumbled into the plane’s turbine, but it doesn’t matter, as the idea here is to show how he was punished for his excesses and scams.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time. Time to open this pit up.
The climax of the album. Everything reaches a boil as we’re treated to the peak of the high. The fastest song, where we see the logical conclusion to the whole album’s overstatement of things. The guitar delves almost into power metal, with its hard but energetic sound. The synth’s arpeggios make the song sound almost like a classical piece; The whole song has an intense vibe of not-so-faux sophistication the artist is known for. It shows us how Leather Patrol, which is Leather Teeth’s band, wins every award at the HTV awards, and we’re treated to all the “music videos” of the award-winning hits (Once again, YT chooses crude censorship of nudity, and not violent murder. How admirable!). Almost as if to show you Bret is pretty much invincible now, he interrupts the video and shows his face, taunting people, daring them to stop him. The ending is very much the climax of the album, punctuated by lightning and all.
The album ends with a song that goes into Miami Vice territory of synths, initially trying to ease the audience. Like it was trying to say “Relax, man, it’s just a tv show, not real!”. After the album reaches its highest point speed-wise, coming down to almost the same speed as the first song is a logical step. But then, almost at the end, the song reiterates the album’s overstatements, to finish with a choir reminiscent of the first song. The album finishes with a threat/promise that Bret Halford will return for the movie’s sequel, which, when presented simultaneously with the song’s ominous ending, continues the statement presented before with a “…or is it?”, like it was trying to tell the audience it may escape Bret, but not for long. He’s too powerful now. So now, all that is left is to await the punishment, the real scourge that is Bret in Leather Terror.
Leather Terror, the follow-up album, is scheduled to release in early 2022. Be sure to stay tuned!
If there’s one aspect that is definitive to vaporwave, it’s nostalgia. The same goes for synthwave, future funk, and all those genres that came to be with the ‘80s revival that has been going on in the last few years. All of these genres are defined, at least partly, as being a sort of lamentation for the loss of certain aspects of culture: fashions, certain sound tropes, certain places, and the general feeling of novelty there was towards technology. But more than grieving them, these genres celebrate those aspects, presenting them with a sleek coat of varnish so as to show them in a new context.
But the fact remains that these genres were born as a way to seek familiarity. It’s not terribly unlike what one might go through after they’ve lost a close relative. One might find themselves going through their belongings, remembering the times spent together, and later, trying to re-experience their presence. A cardigan with that special scent, a wristwatch only for special occasions, the uniform worn to work for so long. The same thing happens with culture; one might find themselves looking for these “talismans,” because their absence is simply too painful. In being defined by nostalgia, all the aforementioned genres are defined by loss. Music, among all art-forms, is reproducible in ways that no other artform is, and thus, can be revived more easily
Which brings us to the album in question. What better genres to explore loss, regret, and, of course, the acceptance and optimism for the future, than these? Where else might one find this kind of respite? In a statement for UD, Strawberry Station told us:
“It’s a story of how I processed living through the pandemic and lockdown on my own in a foreign country. It covers all the emotions I’ve been through in the past two years – isolation, depression, loneliness, and regrets about missed experiences. But also acceptance, hope and optimism for the future.”
Strawberry Station presents the listener with an album that is, by his own admission, a departure from his body of work. Lowlight 2 is a multi-genre affair, notably distant (for the most part) from his usual future funk. Apropos to what inspired it, the album has a very wide range of emotions, with very distinguishable passages of melancholia. The whole project is imbued with a lingering feeling of lethargy, which at times becomes much more apparent. Certainly, a feeling that will come across as all too familiar. But, as we’ll see later in the album, this is not a permanent state of being. And that, above all things, is the most important one to take away from this project.
Now then, on to the album!
Album Art By Strawberry Station
(As the tracklist was not finalized during the review process, the final tracklist differs from what is presented below.)
“Yes, No, Maybe”
Somewhat reminiscent in form and feeling of HOME’s Resonance. It fills the listener with a sensation like looking out the window of a spaceship. The repetition of the main “phrase” of the synth creates a sensation of calm wonder, a sort of relaxed uncertainty.
“Things You Can’t Fix”
The closest in sound to Strawberry Station’s former work that the album gets. The song opens with a robust bass section, punctuating with a playful “Oh well!” It’s a very stark (yet friendly) declaration of powerlessness. It’s a call to snap out of a funk and spring into action regardless of bad circumstances, which is very appropriate. This track marks the start of an emotional high in the album, if placed a bit early. This peak is signaled not by the tune, but by the beat.
“Still Here”
The strongest song in the album. The beat in this track is decidedly in the trap side, which is then balanced by the synths, which keep it “on topic”. Strawberry Station noted this album marks his debut on the vocal section, and he does so outstandingly. Combining soft, harmonic passages with strong rhymes, he states, in very succinct terms, what he wants this whole project to be: “I’m staying right where I am, and I’m still here, under cloudier skies.”
“Stay Strong”
A combination of the first and third track. Much more emphasis is placed on the beat, similar to a french house track. The feeling of uncertainty from before is explored again, in a much more confident manner. The vocals remain soft, as they were in “Still Here”, so as to signal the stability the artist had found and which inspired the creation of the album.
“Comeback Kid”
With certain shades of Trevor Something and Slick Moranis, the new sound grows more and more confident, this time entering the realm of synthwave. Of particular note are the vocals, which demonstrate how in his element Strawberry Station is with the genre. The faster pace and the lyrics match the title of the song, which continues the line of thought presented in the last track.
“Stay With Me”
In a marked change of moods, the album goes from synthwave to lo-fi. The title speaks of a separation, a plea of sorts. Which is, again, very appropriate to the subject. So as to not lose unity, the synths from the first tracks are reprised, and the sweet and playful voice sample used drives the point home in an almost painfully pretty way. It’s almost as if one were hearing the voice of a loved one in their mind.
“See The Sunrise (Ft. Phaun)”
The second cheeriest track in the album by far. If the rest of the album was an exploration of present circumstances, See The Sunrise is the setting of a goal and a promise for the future: Eventually things will be better. The song states this with complete calm and conviction. It’s reminiscent of Macross 82-99’s “Aogashima Island.”
“Peace”
The mood changes once more rather drastically, this time into vaportrap. While not increasing speed, the song is very focused, as if made in a moment of pure inspiration. The vocals also change into something one might expect from the later works of Chester Bennington, only softer, so as to retain unity with the rest of the album. The most dramatic song in the album. While short and focused, it has a clear feeling of tension not seen throughout the rest of the album. It imbues the listener with the feeling of taking a big decision.
“My Oh My”
“My Oh My” feels like the climax of the album. It is the cheeriest track, and, in following with the themes explored throughout the album, speaks of a bright future waiting past the current hardship. In contrast with “See the Sunrise”, “My Oh My” speaks as if it were already in said future. Compared to the rest of the album, it’s relentlessly happy and playful. It would feel out of place in the album, were it not for the drums and beat, which keep the song in the context of the rest of the project.
“Filling In the Gaps”
Sounding like an early Aphex Twins track, “Filling In the Gaps” is once again a combination of the moods of two previous tracks. Here, the listener is presented with the focus of “Peace,” combined with the careful confidence of “Comeback Kid.” While one of the shortest tracks, it serves as a bridge between the earlier fantasies and real life.
“Bright Side”
We see some of the ideas explored earlier in the album revisited here. We have the vocals from “Comeback Kid”, the “call to action” feeling of “Things You Can’t Fix”, plus the addition of guitars and the fastest beat in the album. So as to cement its point, the album begins to close with this invitation to be optimistic while reminding that looking on the bright side means acting upon the things one is optimistic about.
“Bright Side (Reprieve)”
Finally, we reach the end of the album, which restates what Bright Side did, but shifts the pitch of the melody, giving it a sense of finality. But most importantly, so as to make its conclusion clear, the track restates (while lending the vocals more protagonism) what mattered most in the last track, and what is ultimately the whole point of the album: “we cannot erase the past, it’s a losing game”.
You can grab a copy of this cassette here from Business Casual Starting 9/17!
And so the album ends, in stark contrast to its hesitant opening, with complete confidence. This album shows us a more integral artist, molded by circumstances into a richer, more versatile musician. While certain passages feel slightly less confident than the others, the project manages to remain a cohesive story, and states its point loud and clear. This project, in line with the genres defined earlier, is defined by loss, but more so than loss, the will to overcome and dream of a better future.
As the name of this “review” might send some into a spiral of rather tiresome and nonconstructive thoughts about popular music (not in any particular genre, but the kinda thing that gets put in the radio and constantly repeated would come to mind first), it shall be prefaced with this: This review has nothing to say about the commercial appeal of one genre or song over the other, or the reasons for it. The discerning listener already knows what those may be, and the vices of the industry that engender that situation to a greater or lesser degree. And a non-discerning listener might find that the topic mentioned before is too big to fit completely here. Furthermore, the same goes for the validity of transformative works. It’s a somewhat outdated debate, too broad for this space.
Some time ago, I was on a train ride with some acquaintances. I had only discovered future funk and some of the genres with similar interests a few months before, and I was completely sold on them. So much that I even tried making a song! (which, sadly, led nowhere but frustration and an unused Fruity Loops .exe). One of those acquaintances was a digital artist like me, but came from a more musical background. His dad was a musician, and his mom was a producer. And he was telling us about a new album that had come out, which reminded me of my most recent discovery, which happened to be Groovy Godzilla’s Godzilla’s Summer Vacation. I started telling him about it, and I played “Beach Vibes” from my phone for him to listen to.
Immediately, my friend took off the headphones and told me “Hey, this is just a remix!” This upset me slightly, and after a bit of arguing, my friend said “How could something that requires no skill be honest?” This was in response to my original “pitch” of the album, which was “I really like how honestly happy it sounds”. As he went on, he said that something produced electronically, that didn’t require using a guitar or really, any instrument, couldn’t possibly hope to be as honest as I said.
I dropped the argument but the question stayed with me, and became more questions. How did he decide this required no skill so quickly? And why did this make the emotions the album tried to convey (at least, as I perceived them) fake? It seemed nonsensical. Later that day, in a book I was reading on the fundamentals of art, I read that one learns the technical aspects of art to accurately represent what one wants to. And I realized that perhaps my friend was confusing accuracy with honesty.
As is well known, there is a conception that digital mediums allow one to “cheat”; to skip over parts of traditional mediums that are seen as essential to them (or at least, essential to achieve a certain level of quality), like mixing paint for oil painting, or developing pictures for photography. And in skipping these essential parts, one is somehow fooling the audience and thus losing the “right” to expression in that medium. For someone in this mindset, digital mediums exist exclusively to cheat.
The more egregious part of this mindset, however, is that it calls into question the sincerity of the emotions the artist tried to convey. It’s the logical conclusion: If one wanted to express themselves accurately (which, again, is a concept easily confused with honesty) would it not be a disservice to “cheat”? Is the intensity or clarity of the emotions one wants to convey muddled by the chosen medium? What if the whole point of the work is to renovate an old emotion, an old mood?
Which brings us to the album in question. I’d like to offer a disclaimer at this point: I know next to nothing about music. I played bass for a bit, and still do, but the technical intricacies and subtleties of music are more often than not lost on me. But I do know a bit more about art, and have encountered some people who’d have the same opinion of art (moreso in a digital medium) as my friend did of “remixes”, which is a term far too reductive and simple to describe this album.
This album’s greatest achievement is, simply put, having captured a perfect snapshot of a summer vacation. And by doing so, it not only renovates the memory, it engenders fondness for something one might not have ever even experienced. For example: One has never had the tradition to go to a certain place every summer. Sure, one may have been on a summer vacation before, but that specific experience might be alien to them. Somewhat familiar, from seeing it in movies and such, but not from direct experience.
And here is where the honesty mentioned earlier comes into play. For someone who has experienced it, the experience holds a special place in their memory. This allows them to create a crisp, perfectly clear image of what those moments were like, which is perceived with the same clarity by the listener even if they’ve never experienced something like it. It’s immersive, in a way. And something so clear, something so genuine, simply can’t be “faked”.
Groovy G’s masterful mixing, honest-to-goodness appreciation for the songs sampled — and of course, funky, modern beats — do a great job of recontextualizing the songs used. They become part of this snapshot: every beach episode in a cartoon, every cannonball into a pool, every memory of a great summer as a kid. That feeling of the innocent, simple joy of a summer vacation on the beach is captured perfectly here.
So, without further ado, and with plenty of sunscreen on our shoulders and faces, this is Groovy Godzilla’s Godzilla’s Summer Vacation:
First Day of Summer
A great opener to a great experience. The song is relentlessly upbeat and has a bombastic brass section. It moves really fast, perfectly capturing that magic moment when the bell rings on the last day of school and everyone rushes to the exit as fast as humanly possible. The pitch-shifted lyrics lend a juvenile taste to the piece, further cementing the feel of an excited, youthful beginning to some truly carefree days.
Jukebox Jams
The logical next step from the frenzied excitement of the previous song. This song aims to capture the day after. Or rather, the morning after. The moment in which one wakes up, perhaps even at the usual time for school, only to realize it’s summer vacation, and one gets to take their time and enjoy their morning to the fullest. The picture of a crisp sunrise light coming in through the kitchen window, with a cup of coffee on hand comes to mind. This is a slightly less juvenile part of the snapshot, but still an essential part of it, as it finishes settling the idea of “vacation” in one’s mind.
Beach Vibes
One of Groovy G’s best known works. Personal favourite. Arguably the crown jewel of the album. Perfectly captures the mood of every beach episode on anything, that moment of arrival at the first stop of a vacation. One can almost smell the artificial coconut and plastic smell of every beach store ever. The intro in particular, with that musical phrase that evolves later in the song, captures the mood perfectly. The kirby sound effect almost makes the song cloyingly sweet, were it not for a very strong bassline.
How Romantic
Following the progression of events, we now reach the meetup with that special childhood friend. So far this progression has been almost stereotypical, but once again the sincerity with which it is explored transforms it from a simple stereotype to one of those tales as old as time. The vocals of the song and harmony of the voice bring to mind the way one might find themselves crushing for this friend, suddenly realizing their voice is sweeter somehow or that they have really pretty eyes. The guitar after the DB sample makes sure we stay on track groove-wise, so as to not come off as too sweet.
One for the Kids
This one I struggle slightly to place in the timeline. The mood, while still very laid back and joyful, has a distinctly more retro feel to it thanks to the saturation on the vocal section. I wouldn’t call it bad, as it still fits within the general mood of the album, but I do think it’s the weakest of the tracks. Perhaps this is intentional: The mix of retro and modern sound tropes, with a beat that’s not as upbeat as the album’s opening but not as slow as Beach Vibes, makes one think of riding around with friends with the top down.
When I Fell for You
The party. Definitely the most rhythmic song of the album. The beginning is somewhat reminiscent of Garibaldi. The vocals sound slightly like someone confessing a secret to the audience, fitting the narrative, as perhaps the moment in which one tells a friend about the weird new feelings they experienced in Beach Vibes. The guitar solo at the end does a great job to bring the song and the event to a climax, as well as to bring us back into the party.
Warm Memories
Definitely the album’s classiest song. The title is slightly misleading, as it’s also the least happy song in the album. While not losing the groove the album has maintained so far, the album seems to have reached its peak speed-wise in the last song, and is now settling in as if to signal the coming end of summer. Perhaps the gloominess of the lyrics is meant to signal this as well. In the narrative that’s been built so far, perhaps this is a moment of hesitation on whether the childhood friend would correspond to those feelings, or perhaps an outright rejection.
Till Next Year
And so we reach the end of summer. Where the snapshot of these memories becomes the perfect, crystal clear snapshot of life this album is. By far the most heartfelt song, declaring one’s unbreakable love for the other — but by proxy, declaring one’s fondness for these memories.
And in bringing this review to an end, this song states the whole point of the album: These memories are one’s happy place. The space in one’s mind where problems don’t exist. The space one shares with everyone who was involved with these memories. And so, the album closes by reminding the listener that this space never disappears. One will always have this place to come back to. And so, even if things seem hopeless, even if everything else seems bleak, there’s always that promise of returning. So one’s hope is renewed, and life seems better, and one vows to stay groovy until we meet again. Until next year.
