Every once in a while, I'll find myself at one of those parties where everyone, except for me, seems to know everyone, except for me. I'm not that outgoing, and at events like this I usually end up drifting aimlessly through the lonely crowd, sipping on something or other until I feel tipsy enough that my time didn't seem wasted, and heading home to wallow in my discontent.
Sometimes, though--when I'm unusually lucky, or unusually tipsy--I manage to find someone in the same situation, someone I can relate to, someone to commiserate and complain with. Our friendship may be fleeting and arbitary, but is deeper in that moment of shared sorrow than all but the truest love. Whether or not I see them again, a bond is formed, the fact of chance only adding a sheen of significance to our meeting. The strange, bittersweet warmth created by the encounter is profound.
Be Still (Extended Remix) gives me that warmth. It is a revelation in the form of techno music. To listen to Be Still (Extended Remix) is to know--nay, to feel--the depths of human experience. It hints at the divine.
"Be Still," said Kaskade.
"(Extended Remix)," said God.
-ADL
