As was the case with Diamond Rugs’ 2012 self-titled debut record, much of the band’s sophomore album, Cosmetics, formed and grew in the studio. That’s an impressive feat, considering that Diamond Rugs is something of a weekender project for members of no fewer than five bands, all of whom keep moderate-to-ridiculous recording and touring schedules anyway: John McCauley and Robbie Crowell (both Deer Tick), Ian St. Pé (Black Lips), T. Hardy Morris (Dead Confederate), Bryan Dufresne (Six Finger Satellite) and the legendary Steve Berlin (Los Lobos, Blasters and about six dozen other outfits). The boys in the band will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our recent feature on them.
Dufresne: Recently, I awoke far earlier than I would have liked due to the neighbor’s chickens having a heated six-way conversation. They’re adorable, but, at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, it’s just noise to me. Noise is everywhere in a city. Traffic, sirens, machinery, construction, voices, phones ringing, text messages, trains, alarms, the neighbors, the neighbor’s dog, televisions everywhere you go—the noise just does not seem to stop sometimes. You feel like you need to get away, maybe go back home where you remember it being so still and silent. Maybe a vacation, where all you’ll hear are waves and seagulls.
All of this noise, all of this sound, and despite all of it, what does everyone say? Put some music on! Once it’s on, if it’s good—if the DJ is just knocking it out of the park, or if your digital library is shuffling the songs just right—there’s just nothing better. Music can bring people together like no other tangible substance that I know of. It can heal, it can stir memories, it can forge and strengthen relationships, and it absolutely exemplifies humanity. Ever travel to a foreign country where you might not have a handle on the local language? You might have noticed that despite the language barrier, music permeates, breaks and pretty much denies barriers. It is a certain “glue” that can hold literally millions of people of differing faiths, races, ages and backgrounds together in unison and harmony.
It is a most literal magic, mystery of which can never seemingly be fully unraveled. Ears the world over agree on certain tones, notes, songs, albums, musical artists and groups. All pretense is not only pushed aside, but dashed to bits by the magic of music. It is a true healer, and a true unifying, intangible force unlike any other imaginable. Music is fortunately a massive part of my life, and of those whom I hold dear to me. I feel fortunate to understand what I can of it, while its literally boundless possibilities and depths simultaneously mystify me. I believe wholeheartedly that music is life—it is a totally conscious force that has and will continue to bring joy and tears, laughter and friendships, the feeling of possibilities and promise, and complete magic. Music. It is forever written about while eluding description altogether. I’ll end my attempt at doing so now, and just listen.
Video after the jump.
