Sight Like December-SIMPLY LET GO
From the desk of Shijin Miamoto:
There was a time in my youth where I was a most carefree and ignorant young man. Those orgiastic times occurred many, many moons before the unfortunate incursion into Middle East and my most inopportune battle with opiate addiction. In those days I often arose past noon, pleasuring any two of my many mistresses until late in the evening, whereabouts my indulgence in the vast Tokyo nightlife continued very early into the morning hours accompanied by a vast array of illicit substances.
I look back upon those decadent days with nary a tinge of sorrow, for an old man's knowledge of the vagaries of the soul has taught me that purely physical pleasure is, to quote a phrase, merely skin deep. I know now that true satisfaction-one that follows you into the afterlife and beyond-can only be attained with a fullness of the soul.
With that in mind, I one day boarded my Learjet desperately hoping to purge my fondness for Japanese models, high-end smack, and Eastern European Absinthe. My decade-long travels led me to many exotic locales stretching from the tip of Taymyr on the Laptev Sea to the southernmost reaches of Mesopotamia and the Andes. However, nowhere in my travels did my find my spirit filled with joy and ecstasy as thoroughly as in a small Minnesota pizza establishment on the tip of Lake Superior.
A wise man once stated that rock and roll could save your soul. I did not believe this man until witnessing Sight Like December.
Though the members of the band seemed barely young enough to drink, the sounds that emanating from their instruments told the story of six musicians aged well beyond their years; intoxicating my soul in ways I'd previously associated only with Southeast Asian heroin. I was immediately smitten with Sight Like December as if they were my own progeny, vowing to follow them to the ends of the earth from that day forward.
Later that night, over shots of tequila and draft beer, the band seemed hesitant to accept a sixty year-old Japanese man's invitation of indentured servitude. However, my willingness to settle the bar tab seemed to sit quite well with them and earned myself their trust. Steve (guitar, vocals, songwriting) and I bonded over a shared love of the American musician Willie Nelson; Rud (keyboards) and I found common ground discussing our self-loathing characteristics; Becky (violin) introduced me to a number of musicians I'd never heard of; Andy (bass) impressed me with his fondness for Sudafed and Nyquil; and John (drums) glared at me menacingly while Robb (saxophone) drew a strange picture of a wheelchair bound boy ejaculating a donkey.
The next day I wrote a letter home to my mistresses and manservants informing them of my decision to indenture myself to Sight Like December. Here is an excerpt:
"...I have found a type of music that speaks to my soul in ways that I could heretofore not have imagined. If you can envision a band that mixes American roots music, jazz, blues and rock and roll into one powerful force, then you've begun to understand what I've discovered.
Becky's wistful violin lines meld artfully with Robb's sax and Rud's keys, while John and Andy anchor a powerful yet nimble rhythm section--the likes of which I've not encountered in all my travels. Steve's songwriting, lyrics and impassioned stage presence inspire in me a rapturous feeling of musical and poetic completeness. Hyperbole, you say? Nay, my children, this music makes me feel alive again. I only wish that I could share with you my experiences here and now."
Thankfully Sight Like December's debut CD, Simply Let Go, now allows me to share with all my former mistresses and manservants in Japan the singular talent of this truly amazing band. I feel fortunate that-- after many years of carousing and drug abuse--I can now find my final resting place with the fullness of soul that I've so longed to find. For this, I have only Sight Like December to thank. Please, give this music a chance to enter you soul--it will not disappoint.