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"I could hear them from the outside. And even though I hadn’t opened the door yet, you knew they were playing music as if they were crawling out of their graves. Dirt cached under their fingernails, exhaling the shortest of desperate breaths, fighting for their lives. Nowadays the sound doesn’t equal the fury. The acclaim doesn’t equal the value. The approach and process has given way to appeal. Sure, I could’ve stood there frozen. With the uncertainty of our times that would’ve been easy. Those who wait are never safe. Somewhere between the oblivion of everyday and the unsaid wishes that we all wait for…there was a light. It was hiding behind that door."
- Phil Bouie