“Someone could be sleeping in your bed and be a stranger to you…it’s about having intuition, tapping into your spidey senses and acknowledging feelings that have been buried for some time.”
This isn’t a love song; it’s surrender music, the sound of coming to terms with what is.
The mix of instruments is flawless. Heard together, they take me somewhere specific – sitting beside my grandfather on his patio as the sun sets, our old family dog Gypsy chewing on a stick out on the lawn. A quiet warmth hangs over everything. Emphysema took my Pop many moons ago, but I’m grateful to Hannah for bringing memories like this one to the fore.
Through the fusion of sound comes Hannah’s cozy vocal. Her voice doesn’t sit above the arrangement so much as inside it, dissolving into the music like salt in water. There’s something aged and enduring about her tone, too, a voice that feels as though it’s drifted in from times past. The best I can describe it is sepia-coloured.
The track’s title comes from a strain of mushroom that grows plentifully in the woods surrounding Hannah’s studio (Flying Cloud), tucked away in the Catskills Mountains.
