Liner Notes: You return once more to the summer lawns, recently turned golden. Though, now there's a little more September in the sunset. A few more ghost stories to tell your friends. Maybe drinking beers from time to time. Equal parts stardust, fools, and nonsense. You laugh at a few inside jokes. Realize that you're still alive. Still susceptible to falling in love. And so, you replace the strings on your guitar. You stumble through your 9 to 5. Still taking the train from Bellmore. You see the best minds of your generation destroyed by the internet, starving, hysterical naked. You watch your friends move away. Their letters go from blue ink to cell phone screen to nothing. Some nights you ask yourself: Whatever happened to the girl with the tattoo sleeves? Whatever happened to the bloodless revolution? Searching for somewhere that feels like home. This is the irreverent mission. The fireworks illuminating the night sky. The abyss and the wonder. The fresh air in your lungs. There was a moment when you went from asking the question to finding the answer. And you know it when you close your eyes. Death isn't the remedy. You enjoy the neon letters when you walk down the street. The colors of the hometeam. The comeback story. Written in spray paint and compressed in mp3s. Every minute is a testimony. Every word matters. This is your humble declaration: Take it. From the stage to the bedroom to the street corner. Take it. From the hospital room to the midnight concert venue to the teenage diary. Take it. From heart beat to sunrise to elegy. Take it, forever. -Vince Bauters, November 2015