alex

monday, october 26th 2020: blue hour
monday, october 26th 2026: ride the storm exactly six years apart. in the last chapter of ‘the little prince’, the aviator writes: “and now six years have already gone by...” six years since he last saw the little prince. he says he knows the prince went back to his planet, and at night he loves to listen to the stars, “like five hundred million little bells.” then he ends the book with a request. if you ever pass the spot where the prince appeared and disappeared, wait a while under the star. if a little man with golden hair appears, laughing: “please comfort me. send me word that he has come back.” send me word that he has come back. in the book, a merchant sells pills that save you 53 minutes every week. “and what do i do with those 53 minutes?” the prince asks. “anything you like,” the merchant says. the little prince loved watching sunsets but when he meets the aviator, he lets his true feelings and sadness slip into his words and says “you know-- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad...” to which the aviator asks “were you so sad, then? on the day of the forty-four sunsets?” but the little prince makes no reply. the prince does not wish for a sunset. blue hour lyrics: “so tell me what to do, the clue to stop the sun.”
“i want to stay trapped in this magic.” blue hour title: “at the sky of 5:53, i discovered you & i.” at the heart of the story, the prince helps the aviator unlearn the superficiality of adults: “the thing that is important is the thing that is not seen.” and this album is about the realistic pain and anxieties of youth in their 20s, the age where you’re becoming the adult the prince warned about. “the moment light gets in the little cracks, we will be able to meet again.”
“we made a promise when we were very young. that’s the reason i have to live for tomorrow.” angel bite is a love song about wanting to be with ‘you’ despite a shabby, not entirely beautiful youth, refusing to let go even while mocking their own unremarkable reality. they aren’t running from the storm. they’re riding it to go back to ‘you’.