There’s a storm a-brewin’ outside my East Village window. From 6 stories up, I can see The Bowery Hotel standing strong against the wind that’s blowing the tree that separates my building from the others on the street south of me. It’s a weird thing to be thankful for, but I’m thankful for this hurricane. Yes, it’s a bit scary and safety should be a priority, but I’m grateful for the time it’s opened up for me to slow my life down a bit. Most of New York City is shut down: mass transit isn’t moving so really if I wanted to go anywhere I’d have to walk and I’m not feeling ambitious enough to walk all the way to the west side. I’ve restricted myself to a 10 block radius (if I decide to go out at all…my gym is oddly open…but these hurricane snacks…mmmmaybe). So in the interim of me leaving my apartment I’ve decided to focus on what’s here in front of me.
This little hideaway I’ve found and created with my roommate is comfortable in times like this. Shelter is truly a necessity and I’m grateful for it everyday. The world may be howling outside, but my apartment is filled with the aroma of fall candles, pressed coffee, and good tunes like this one. There’s something about a bearded man playing his guitar and singing that pulls at my rough and guarded heart-strings. McMorrow’s sounds work harmoniously alongside those of Ray LaMontagne and The Tallest Man on Earth. Thankfully his lyrics are understandable and his musical production is minimal. The sounds of this track and all the others on his first release, Early in the Morning, are made for times when staying-in is inevitable. They’re comforting, easy on the ears, and make whatever chaos is happening outside your windows seem alright.