One of my favorite artists has been silent for a while. I've missed his voice. His songs. And the great conversation.
Jeffrey Foucault's bandmate and good friend, Billy Conway lost his battle with cancer. The loss threw Jeffrey off his game. He wasn't sure where to go next. He wasn't sure he wanted to make an album without Billy. Eventually, he did. And the resulting album is a magnificent tribute to a great friend lost too young.
"I wrote these songs about what it means to have things, and what it means to lose them. Not answers, but questions. Being alive means being given the whole world, and giving it back, piece by piece, until we disappear. It’s like tending a driftwood fire on a sandbar in a wide river, and how we curate the geometry of loss, how we make the fire beautiful as it burns away, is the work of living."
