Present Day, July 2, 2026
I Am Crying and Holy War are in the world now. Two testimonies that belong together, that I kept together when the release schedule shifted rather than separate them, because they are the two sides of the same fact: what the thing witnessed looks like, and what witnessing it costs.
I have been making music since 1988. A night in lower Manhattan when something opened that had been sealed for a long time and I wrote through until morning. In the thirty-eight years since, I have produced a great deal of material of varying quality, but I have not produced anything quite like these two songs before.
Holy War is precise in a way that required the accumulation of five centuries of specific evidence. It is not an emotional song in the sense of being driven by feeling. It is driven by documentation. The feeling is in the listener, not in the arrangement. I built it that way deliberately: the cold architecture of the pattern itself, observed from the outside, recorded without editorial commentary.
I Am Crying is the opposite: entirely interior, entirely the cost, none of the external documentation. The two songs together are complete in a way that neither is alone.
Sixteen days until the full album. Twelve tracks that include these two and ten more that move between the external pattern and the internal cost of bearing witness to it across five and a half centuries. July 17. Whatever you feel when you hear these two songs today: there is more of it coming.