Carl Sandburg’s work is characterized by deep reflection on rough, visceral urban images. What’s most striking to me, however, is the indifference of these crude realities to moments of introspection. Written for the 2016 Ear Taxi Festival, "the has-been to beachey" tries to capture this with a tapestry of images from two of his more mysterious poems. There are some clear connections between music and text: a frantic horse ride, a strange shadow. But the violin and cello quickly veer into indifference: the voice grandiosely professes a “love of the big blue beyond”, but the strings respond with quiet, mechanical plucking sounds, and then with highly distorted, faraway swing cabaret rhythms. The voice and strings do reconvene for some lyrical introspection (“only a man…”), but the ending reprises this emotional disconnect:
“The boy laughs and goes whistling: ee-ee-ee ee-ee-ee. The stone face stands silent, seeming to clutch a secret.”
