There exists in our collective heart an alabaster hall of achievement, the keys to which are provided only to music’s acknowledged masters. We call this place the Pantheon. At the end of their lives, musical heroes go to the Pantheon to lie on smooth stones and drink nectar among statues and fountains. Musicians in the Pantheon are allowed to make love to each other at any time. And their bodies are maintained forever in their most ideal form.
It is widely known that a musician’s ability to enter the Pantheon is determined by the slow coalescing of opinion among gatekeepers such as you. This haphazard process causes many deserving artists to suffer through exhausting careers only to endure the negative effects of death before the collective wisdom of gatekeepers, shifting at its glacial pace, finally allows them to attain their reward. And so,
For the purposes of this document, let us stipulate that there will be a time in the future when the greatness of The Twilight Hours will be recognized and the band will be installed in the Pantheon. At that time their translucent red vinyl LP, Stereo Night, will be acknowledged by all to be a masterwork for the ages. Now let us go one step further and admit that this stipulation is true. At some point, The Twilight Hours will enter the Pantheon. Upon gaining access to its healthful nectars, the band members will experience increased strength and bodily regeneration. And if they are still alive at the time of their enshrinement, their musical productivity will grow as well.
Logic dictates that if one band’s wellbeing were to increase, the wellbeing of all musicians, on aggregate, would increase. Remember, our musical culture is a living organism whose health has waxed and waned over the course of history. At times, such as during the reign of pop in the early 1980s, it seemed as if Gloria Estefan might actually succeed in “turning the beat around”, twisting music into pieces and killing it. Because such threats to music always exist, we bear a collective responsibility to guard music and nurture it. To help them protect music itself, shouldn’t The Twilight Hours be allowed to drink now the life-giving nectars that will eventually come into their possession at some future time?
There is more at stake here than the fate of music. We have already accepted that in the future, perhaps after their death, The Twilight Hours will be granted Pantheon status. And so, the future is known. But the present is known as well. And who could deny that for the very most unfortunate among us, ours is a time of terrible misery. Let us rise up as a society and leave the sadness of today, jumping ahead to the certainty of a brighter future when The Twilight Hours have gained their reward.
Finally, the advanced ages of the band members make The Twilight Hours a special case for early placement into the Pantheon. It is possible, though unlikely, that their debut album, Stereo Night, will be largely ignored on its release and will only gain renown many years later after the band’s members have been driven insane by the world’s injustice. After a blow like that, these mature musicians may not have time to recover and become productive members of society. On the other hand, if The Twilight Hours were to be immediately enshrined, the band would no doubt begin to earn substantial wages at their live shows, allowing them to focus on recording a second album’s worth of world-benefitting material.
Gatekeeper, you have the power to move the world ahead – to help us bypass an unproductive period of dithering and evaluation which will yield, ultimately, nothing but an already-determined future. Launch us forward to a better time! Take action now by ushering The Twilight Hours through the Pantheon’s marble doors. Grant these deserving musicians, still in their prime, the powerful nectars that will help them save music and perhaps the world!
Matt Wilson & John Munson
The Twilight Hours