About this song
- Cloying, claustrophobic and doomed, this track lurches deeper and deeper, beginning with the audio of Dave’s last dive. The water rushes over you and you start to sink as a distorted wall of feedback wraps its fingers around you until you push through to the clean, sterile guitar tones. These build musically (but not sonically) as Dave’s audio fades out, leaving you with the track. You sink deeper, drums matching the beating of your heart as you pass fifty, then 100 metres. And then time slows. The music stops. All is quiet, tranquil and serene. Then a country inspired guitar twang cuts through, wrapping around your torso and pulling you down into the depths. Like Dave, you go willingly. Unlike Dave, you’re coming back. The guitar and cello parts start to entwine, the drums mashing into your head along with the bass as you feel the floor of the cave under your feet. Then things explode, lurching around your head as the guitars wail, their cacophony building over minutes, not seconds, leaving you in a trance until twelve minutes in everything comes together in a glorious dark, sinful melody that for me is a fitting soundtrack to Dave’s last dive. Musically this is the equivalent of nitrogen narcosis, leaving you ‘drunk’ and unsure of what’s just happened. All you know is that it’s cold, dark and deep. It’s deep, you’re alone and playing with a body that’s been there for ten years. And soon you’ll be joining him. And yet in this darkness and death there is still a sliver of light, as David Shaw kept his promise to Deon Dryer’s parents. He brought him back. Four days later Dave and Deon’s bodies were pulled to the surface. A promise kept – at the highest cost of all. - Nick Dodds (2015), We Lost The Sea – Departure Songs, Echoes and Dust. July 23. . User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply. — lastfm
Featured in
- Dave’s last dive · film
