In front of us, we always see the edge of the page and the end of the paper. It's there where we can't go. For those more apt to consider the life they're leading to be something more like a movie, there's the edge of the screen, or the holes at the sides of the film that assist in feeding it into the projector so that it can be transformed. It's where the light stops its hitting and the whole place just turns into the black of the room. It's within that darkness where we sit, with our soda, our popcorn and our chocolate candies, trained to stare at the images dancing around on the wall and empathizing with them or wishing that we were up there. We wish just to be an extra, to have some small part in the story. Always in front of us is the point that we can't get to. It mocks us occasionally, but there's not much we can do. We can fashion our expectations out of whatever we please and we can try to go along with them. We can see how far they can be taken. It can be sad and delusional, or it can be modestly fulfilling.
Brooklyn's The Canon Logic is a band that takes us to the edge of the film or the paper, giving us a good look at what's on the other side. There's some smoke and a feeling of a push in the back at points on the group's latest full-length -- "FM Arcade" -- that alert us that we've crossed into a realm that's not quite real, but more in the place of wishful thinking or make-believe. It's not fantastic stuff or situations that are unbelievable, or of disbelief (there's a difference), just a difference in scenery, where the colors are a bit more vivid and we feel a tad better. We look down and we're wearing snappier clothing. We feel as if we have somewhere important to be and we're surrounded by a general sense of safety.
In "Nights At Armour Mansion," lead singer Tim Kiely depicts a storyline that feels like we're commuting between the West and East Eggs and we're not sure which one we belong to the most. We're not sure which side we are more suited for and we're not sure which sides the people we call our friends, or the people we're most attracted to are best suited for either. It's part of the measure. We're just figuring it all out. The songs are populated with the pastime beauties, the notorious girls, and the fake or supplanted destinies. They are also populated with the fragments of magical nights or those with the potential for the magic. There's romance floating around, bouncing off the walls and hitting the ceiling and exploding all around. Kiely sings, "I always wanna say, 'I'll be alright.,'" and it could be the theme of the evening, where anything can hit and it will at least be worth talking about come the morning time.