SON:You keep telling me to practice the modes. What even is a mode? FATHER:It’s a scale that’s had a couple of drinks. SON:So… a scale in a good mood? FATHER:Exactly. […]

Long ago, in a wind-washed city by the river of Mook, there lived a musician named Everulska. He played both the silver flute and the hollow drum. In the marketplace […]

Fred found it in the attic of a shuttered opera house, its case covered in dust. The mandolin looked ordinary, cherry wood body, ivory inlay, strings dulled with rust. But […]

Once upon a time there was a man who believed consciousness was like playing the piano: he was at once the player and the listener, the hand striking the keys […]

“Once upon a time,” her mother began, tucking the blanket a little closer under her daughter’s chin, “there was a musician who loved to play the piano late at night. […]

After rehearsal, walking down the same fire escape they used to enter, he told himself the same story he’d been telling a long time: They don’t get it. They’re safe […]

There was once a man who sang the blues. He’d lived hard years dirty bars, long highways, lovers left, debts never loosened their grip. Night after night, he sang on […]

The band was called Late Prophet. On tour again, small-town churches, rec rooms, dark bars that still smelled like decades of Budweiser. Their press kit said they played “post-folk spirituals […]

Once, in a city of traffic reports, a young man named Simon Bell started a label. Dust and Echoes, was what he called it because music felt like that to […]