Quitters by Lydia Roberts

For all the data we can use to understand the state of the world and everyone in it, we have extreme difficulty counting the subset of people who have just given up. Lydia Roberts captures this widespread helpless stagnation on Quitters, a harsh noise record with a fleshy human core. Shimmering atmospheric synths capture the outward face of a productive, independent person, someone either seemingly living a meaningful life or at the very least retaining the potential to live such a life in the future. Meanwhile, a deep, dark underbelly of roaring noise, organically conforming to the contours of an anguished human voice, basks in the sweltering flames behind those dead eyes. A viscous concoction of grief for a lost future, anxiety over the passing time, anger at a past self, and guilt for a wasted opportunity overwhelms any sense of self-worth, leaving the ego shattered and the soul crushed. For a phenomenon so widespread yet so elusive, such an organic, granular, empathetic investigation represents the best chance at recognition, reconciliation, and reconstruction.