Auxiliary Priest — In the Last Days Of The Sutro Fog
The fog could be the only anchor you had to life outside the bubble. It felt like a clock made of pressure and water droplets and air. We added to and took from it with our breathing. Some afternoons on Fulton, walking uphill towards the park, it felt like personalized rain. It was there to help us. It kept things alive, if causing limited visibility and a few car crashes.
I bottled some before we left. As a joke, maybe. "It'll be nice to take this along." I didn't intend it as theft, or as a prank. I didn't have any idea I'd be saving the last of a sentient lifeforce on the brink of extinction.
This is what it remembers about its life in the last days of the Sutro fog.
"...Auxiliary Priest has created a haunting and exploratory piece of electronic minimalism.
In the Last Days of the Sutro Fog stays the course, creating a soundtrack more fit for grieving the slow death of our world than celebrating the beauty of the universe."
— Tome to the Weather Machine
"Disorienting drones and feedback and tone manipulation drift through side A, "The Sutro Fog,” enveloping the listener in its dank embrace. Side B, “West Portal,” does similar things, wafting miserably in tense patterns and instilling an unsettling vibe of pure paranoia. Sometimes we want gorgeous nostalgia in our drone records. Sometimes we wanna be freaked the freak out."
— Cassette Gods