Thirty Days of Music- Part X

Generally I don't fall asleep listening to music. It stems from the fact I would listen to music solely on headphones if I could, a predilection when coupled with my tendency to roll over in bed abundantly (to find the comfy spot), leads to moderately rational fears that I may die one night by accidentally asphyxiating myself in bed with wires. Admittedly, this was less terrifying than the time I woke up one morning and realised the piece of gum I had been chewing the night before was still in my mouth.

Day ten is a song that you can fall asleep to.

I was going to choose Explosions in the Sky's "Glittering Blackness". It reminds me of being in bed late at night sending texts to my friend Pumpkin; a small event of happiness immeasurably enhanced by what is an unrelentingly gorgeous song. It has one of the most heart-wrenching guitar lines and delicate harmonics I've ever heard. Then I remembered it probably wasn't the most fitting song to write about, considering when the marching band drums, shattering cymbals and reverb-laden guitars obliterate the softness, surprisingly, I woke up.

Day ten is a song you can actually fall asleep to.

We should all feel eternally indebted to Sushil Dade for turning down the opportunity to play bass for Kylie Minogue. Without this selfless sacrifice, the glorious Future Pilot AKA may never have come into existence. So far, four albums have been released under the Future Pilot moniker, one of which is crap*, one of which it is imperative that everybody listens to at least once in their lives. The eclecticism of his music parallels that of the assortment of contributors to the Future Pilot project- Philip Glass, Thurston Moore & Kim Gordon, Damo Suzuki from Can, The Pastels.

There is no more apt an example of the delightful blend of twee Glaswegian indie pop and classical Indian melody showcased on "Tiny Waves, Mighty Sea" than the fact that Stuart Murdoch from Belle and Sebastian sings the lyrics on a song entitled "Om Namah Shivaya". The album is tranquil, dreamy, jangly; glockenspiel chimes and ethereal backing vocals. There are surging instrumental interludes with tremolo bass and fluttering sax. There is feedback and distortion. There's a rendition of "Beautiful Dreamer" sung by a 96 year woman named Julia whom Dade met whilst working for an Alzheimer's charity in Scotland. It's an album that is tender, vigorous, experimental, essential. It's also an album that houses one of the most beautiful lullabies that acts as a sublime soundtrack for slumber.

Future Pilot AKA- Opel Waters

* "Secrets from the Clockhouse", step forward