Mourning Jason Molina


I think about Jason Molina at least once a day. He gnaws at me. I wonder how someone so gifted can no longer exist on this planet. It's interesting. I both found and lost him at the same time. His music came into my life, I was moved, I fell in love, I was haunted by his voice. It was an instant connection that so rarely happens with musicians. I had him and then I found out he was already dead, had been dead for months. So I loved him and then I mourned him all at once. His music is everything. It's devastating and eviscerating and melancholic and it tears you apart in the best possible way because, for me, art should do that. It should almost dismantle you. It should be that intense and shattering, at least the best art should.