The Great Fall. Lucifer’s becoming. Little can soothe that which is apocalyptic but apocalyptic cries of the signified angel who’s pained enough to understand the need for Zizek’s symbolic psychelandfill. I’m unsure whether Julianna Barwick would appreciate such a sentiment toward her music but, this morning, she has it. I’ve followed her work for a year now and she teases out all she sees and makes. Takin her time with pain and pleasure alike, hers is the music I would listen to as the apocalypse came in and as it left us in the post-apocalypse.