Finally, finally, it’s really summer!

Every season pairs differently with music, like wine with food. I wrote last year about autumn’s nostalgia, which I think goes best with introspective songs on headphones. Winter calls me to something textured and energetic to keep everybody warm. (Jazz works well for this.)

Ah, but summer…

What I like best in summer is playing guitars late into the night with The Casual Observer, plunking out “Meet Me In The Morning”. What I like best is drifting in a raft flotilla past the martian landscape of the Red Deer River, with Pink Floyd coming through the tiny portable speakers. But what I like very best is laughing with my closest friends, on the top deck of a house boat on Shuswap lake, with Van Morrison playing under the shining sun.

Now that I’m in Vancouver, I don’t see much of my old summertime crew. But music transcends distance and time, and the first notes of those songs take me there instantly. I’ve covered Van’s Astral Weeks this month, in honour of all those great times.

This one goes out to Robin and Chris, Bob and Lindsey, and Dale and Shaine. I’m making new memories in Vancouver this summer, but you’re never far from my thoughts.

It’s also for my Mom, who’s having her birthday today way over in Libya. Happy birthday Mom!

Sarah St. Catherine - Astral Weeks

Man oh man, do I love Chad VanGaalen’s Soft Airplane.

This is music in its best form: not something you observe or receive, but a map that takes you somewhere.

For me, this album was like hearing Dark Side of the Moon again for the first time; the sound went so deep into my heart. The similarity between the two albums ends with how much I love them, so don’t expect a high-production psychadelic epic if you pick up your own copy of Soft Airplane, which you definitely should.

The lyrics in “Rabid Bits Of Time” really hit the mark. I’ve wondered sometimes whether I’ve been dead for years. Living day to day, dealing with inputs and outputs, sometimes makes me feel like I’m missing the big picture.

But “Rabid Bits Of Time” looks upward as well as inward. “No one knows where we go when we’re dead or when we’re dreaming.”

This one is best listened to with your eyes closed.

Sarah St. Catherine - Rabid Bits Of Time