Fall Right In — Beach Fossils

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMvhso9O1io

Beach Fossils evoke a nostalgia for an era I don't know I've every truly known or gotten enough of — those rare, fleeting moments of summer rain, or beach days on vacation, when things are in stasis and could go on like so for ages. It's gentle and timid, but there's an underlying current of horror and desperation to it — the implication that, as good as things are at the moment, they'll turn bad later — nothing else can compare. The evening will bring disappointment. And the album art, even — a window on a house, a baseball, frozen in time — it's a wonderful photograph, but the implication is that the baseball is about to break the window — and the songs are all about that, about a wonderful, joyous period in someone's life, and they can't just step back and appreciate it. It's malaise and — no, not depression, but exultant praise of monotony. It is especially confusing to think that, when I first listened to it, it reminded me of things that hadn't happened yet; yet, listening to it now, it reminds me not of the past, but of the circumstances of that first listening, in mid-January of last year, in the deep winter.