Colin Miller

Haw Creek opens with a lullaby, Colin singing: No one ever dies. It’s just Colin and his acoustic guitar. And then some strange unidentifiable swirling sound, and then backup singers humming in harmony, a mantra, a spell. The beat, like moth wings fluttering on the screen door, trying to get in. In recording, Colin’s always using the room as an instrument. But with Haw Creek, Colin uses the whole place. A skink slinks under the steps, cawing birds keep you from sleep, echos bleed into each other, the refrain pedal is pushed to the floor. Erosion of the self, creating a space for discovery. Exploring known and unknown memory. Manipulating time and distance.