KYLE MORTON // WHAT WILL DESTROY YOU
If you are reading this either: (1) it is likely that you are or have at one time been a listener of the contemporary music ensemble Typhoon and the paper trail of this fact has brought you to my doorstep, OR (2) having taken a few capricious turns in that garden of forking paths better known as the internet, you arrived here fortuitously. In the latter case, things are greatly simplified: I am a musician and I have recorded an album of songs; this is the accompanying blurb--half introduction, half apology (in the music business, as it is in the world of animal control, unknown entities must either wear ID tags or risk euthanasia).
Now, for those precious few of you familiar with my work, a small caveat: this is not the Typhoon record that was promised. The next installment in the orchestral-existential saga is currently underway but will not be suitable for public consumption for another several months. I'm sorry. It is what it is.
What you have here is a slight and hopefully scenic detour:
WHAT WILL DESTROY YOU
(The Net Sum of Sadness Down an Iota)
A solo record by yours truly
Most of these songs were written in about a day, many of them while walking aimlessly around Portland, others wrote themselves in the moments just before sleep. They were recorded and mixed with the invaluable help of Paul Laxer from the inviolate comfort of his living room, mostly in the evenings during the winter and early spring of 2015. At the outset there was no deliberate attempt at an overarching concept, though once finished and lined up together the theme of my subconscious was revealed to me: this was a record about love, more specifically (not devolving into platitudes just yet), the ambivalence of erotic love.
With a couple exceptions these songs are about kinds of love, from old fashioned heartache to acute sadomasochism; some drawn from personal experience and others extrapolated from years of keen observation on the subject. For the sake of research, I would be interested to hear your thoughts on any or all of them, though beware my dear reader, what is heard is often as revealing of the listener as it is of the teller.
Correspondence can be directed to email@example.com
Yr faithful servant,
9 September 2016