(Entertainment Systems, 2016)
Megalithic future industrial chaos. That’s what we’re heading toward. Dark, black skies because the atmosphere is choked; gray, desolate landscapes because the ground has choked; burnt-out husks of buildings because when we had the chance to fix things, we choked. Whatever. It’s there in the path of our timeline, and that future is close enough that those of us alive today may live to see it. We’ll be the last ones to cradle a memory of a vibrant, living planet in our minds. Will generations beyond us have a chance to understand the direction we’ve chosen for them with our actions? Will they forgive us?
Maybe there’s a part of our DNA that will allow the memory to pass to our descendants, perhaps in the form of visions or imagination. Maybe future humans will dream of a place like the Earth of our past. In those dreams springs hope, and with hope, anything is possible. Whether or not there’s a course to reverse the damage will remain to be seen. It’s likely, though, that our offspring will have to leave this planet behind for something newer, more pristine and environmentally friendly. Habitable. I’m not saying we should turn our back on our own world yet, but it’s looking less and less likely that it will be able to sustain us. That’s too bad.
Final Machine’s “They Say You Won’t Remember,” and indeed the entirety of his new cassette release Lohaden, is the soundtrack to our planet’s death throes and our farewell to it. They say you won’t remember, but you will.