Sometimes the trouble is that none of the photos I took last night look remotely the way that Matt Stoessel’s soaring pedal steel sounds in a mostly-empty 506, or feels in that soft spot under my rib cage.
A lot of bands use the pedal steel as sonic texture, laying it underneath the rest of their sound to broaden or deepen. The Ginger Envelope doesn’t, one of the reasons I fell so hard for them when I picked up their first album back over the winter — they let Stoessel’s phenomenal playing sing out over the rest of the sound, delicate and wailing and beautiful. It was so lovely last night that it was hard to tear my eyes — or my camera — away from him, trying to put that heartbreakingly gorgeous sound into a single image.
brand new kind of photography 