It’s been four years since the last Elvis Depressedly full-length, 2015’s New Alhambra, but there’s been no lack of new music from Mat Cothran. He’s released two solo albums in that time, 2017’s Judas Hung Himself In America and last year’s My First Love Mends My Final Days, and … More »
Each December, in an effort to celebrate outstanding achievements and commemorate The Year That Was, the pop culture media industrial complex foists lots of lists upon the world. We here at Stereogum are party to that deluge; we shared our collective conclusions about 2018’s best albums a week ago and have been More »
Late summer sundown, everything turned to shadow boxes and silhouettes. Drive past the stone house you grew up in, so long since you left, memories faded into haze like a feverdream. The wooden desk in your old bedroom, prayers you carved into the drawer as a child, is long since gone, succumbed to wood rot, bleached out by the sun. You tell yourself those prayers went unanswered, that you are the last static figure, still that same child. Push aside this fable you’ve created for yourself; seasons have changed you too. Days turned years spent mixing hope with regret; stirring mud with still water, an endless cessation of your own waves.
Dusk is when everything feels familiar; in daylight this place is too bright to remember, dizzy sidewalks wind and double back. Paths you grew up on and yet, never lead you to anywhere you could call home. When you’re truly home, there is no more suffering.
Scrape your heels into the dry earth, claw relentless into the parched clay beneath you, unyielding like your mother taught you to be. Give up only on the grudge you’ve held against yourself, you owe yourself no penance, no conscripted recitations over rosaries. Make a home within yourself; forgive that you are not yet where you want to be.
July rain leaves its ghost; damp air hangs heavy, wraps itself around your shoulders; impermanent but still serving as solace and courage to keep looking forward. Soft voice echoes, kindred heart’s melody bringing comfort. Duality of being, heavy burdens come hands entwined with boundless blessings. Time passes in little deaths; mourn for them only so you can move forward.
Take a listen to My First Love Mends My Final Days for yourself. Mathew Lee Cothran’s full digital discography can be found here.
my first love mends my final days by mathew lee cothran
At the end of last year, Mathew Lee Cothran retired his Coma Cinema project with the excellent swan song Loss Memory, but the Asheville musician is far from done. Today, he’s releasing a new solo album, My First Love Mends My Final Days, under his given name, the follow-up to last year’s Judas … More »
Words spill out to reveal memory, mix with melody, harmonize with piano keys, reverberate hazy yet brave, on into infinity, or oblivion, whichever comes first. Film reels flicker behind your closed eyes, play back moments, long passed, in tandem. Afternoons spent under oak leaves, bathed in golden light, flicker briefly then dim. Hours passed in dark rooms that you’ve haunted on days when you became your own ghost. Mornings alone, studying your reflection in the mirror, you are there, but for a moment you swear you are disappearing. Fade from your own frame. Nights spent staring at the sky, screaming your existence up to the stars, alive as the cold air wraps itself around your shoulders. Wind whispers through anxious pines, a reminder to keep those promises you made to yourself in those pictures. Mend the tears you have made, nothing is too torn to be fixed. Some things were made to be forgotten; some memories were meant to be lost. Fill your lungs up with smoke, exhale a sigh of relief; you don’t have to be alone. Crashing waves aren’t the comfort you’re searching for, but for now, they have to be good enough. Break your bones crossing your fingers, pull every dandelion that you find from the root; rest easy, someday you will find your home.
Blurry eyes finally learn to focus; scan the landscape that found you. Trace the backlit horizon with your calloused fingertips; find the map drawn from the broken lines in your palms and follow it. Make good on what Orpheus never could; leave this world you’ve known behind without a backward glance. Ever forward into the setting sun, let your shadow be the one to bear your burdens. Turn your face skyward, dizzy under evergreen boughs, wade ankle deep into clear water, absolve yourself of the sins of your parents, baptized anew, no longer by fire, walk on your unsteady legs, a once fallen fawn, you stand again.
Where you are going is not where you want to be, but its better than where you are now.
Eventually you will get there.
Loss Memory is the final album from Mat Cothran’s project Coma Cinema. Take a listen for yourself below. Loss Memory is self released but is available on vinyl through Joy Void.
Coma Cinema is one of many in Mat Cothran’s wide web of projects — which also includes Elvis Depressedly and the music he puts out under his given name, most recently this year’s Judas Hung Himself In America — but Loss Memory is being billed as the final Coma Cinema album, which … More »