I am a stan through and through for the work of one mister Phil Boyd. First introduced to him via the debut 7-inch of his turn-of-the-century Pittsburgh powerhouse band Modey Lemon (whose records I STILL rock on the regular) through releasing his backwards-engineered techno recordings as TM Eye, figuring out that I've known this guy nearly 25 years at this point both puts a smile on my face and only heightens my awareness of the slow creep of death upon our fleshy bags of meat we tend to call "bodies"

Phil's in Marfa now and checked in out of the blue to send me a copy of this latest project. God how I've longed to visit Marfa ever since first reading about it in that early issue of McSweeney's back in 2003. Air Field is self-described as "sonic minimal, ambient odes to the vast land and skyscapes of far West Texas" and I'd be hard-pressed to improve upon that from my end. The yearning for a place I have never even been is strong in this one.

Listen, release, let go, live.