This is my favourite so far, both song and video, from Chrystabell and David Lynch's new album, "Cellophane Memories". I love how subtle the video is. Lynch doesn't direct the viewer to any of the almost imperceptible changes that occur, your own eye is responsible for whether you're watching Chrystabell in the see-through dress or the little man with half a face caught in mid-motion.
Like the previous songs, there's a siren's call quality to it. Chrystabell seems not so much to be a definite woman but a dreamt of ideal or manifestation of fundamental, irrepressible desire. The man with the fractured face is almost indistinguishable from his environment. One indefinite being dreams of another. The sense of sorrow and urgency underlying it all imbues these clouds with anxiety parallel to the weird sedative quality. It's lovely.
It reminds me of "Ghost of Love", Lynch's song from the Inland Empire soundtrack, especially with that guitar and percussion.
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