Ahead on Differential

This is the Ahead on Differential Daily Dispatch, issue #5.

I.

It was bound to happen. We’re well into June. Spring has fully given way to summer. With summer comes the heat, and with the heat comes humidity, and with the humidity comes the banshee wail of my pores. I don’t have to be outside much during my commute; I’d peg it at 30 minutes round trip. But in the dead of summer, I morph into a sweat elemental. I’m not out here working the land of anything, I’m just standing on the corner waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green. I’ve thought about being a towel guy, but that would mean having to lug a whole-ass towel around in addition to my work stuff. No, this is just something I’ll have to endure, just as I’ve endured it my whole life thus far. My kingdom for drier summer days.

II.

Matt Sweeney is an indie-rock long hauler. He’s been gigging since high school, where he played with Ween drummer Claude Coleman in Skunk. He’s probably best known for his work in Chavez, Zwan, and the Hard Quartet, his prodigious session work (he's played for everyone from Adele to Iggy Pop), and his numerous production credits. The first time I encountered Sweeney was on his show Guitar Moves, where the picks the brain of guitarists as stylistically diverse as Sturgill Simpson, J. Mascis, and fuckin’ Keith Richards. My favourite episode features Sweeney’s high school pal Dean Ween; if it were possible for a YouTube video to reek of beer, sweat, and smokes, it’s this one. I don’t know if Sweeney is what I would call a crack interviewer, but he’s attentive, affable, and curious, all great qualities in a host. I love this show.

III.

I try to shoot this pixelated sun. This lens has other plans. I know I’ve done it once before, though to be fair I was way closer to the glitchy star, because my tripod stood on your old balcony at Babel Heights, floor two hundred and three. I still recall the chipping purple paint, the way you stood there, stock-still, like a saint unbothered by the miracle they’ve just performed. That porch, that building, you? Now dust.

IV.

Ah, surely you didn’t think I’d bring up Guitar Moves for nothing! The show is where I first heard of Welsh guitarist Gwenifer Raymond. She’s an American Primitive-style fingerpicker in the vein of John Fahey, but the person she reminds me of the most is Leo Kottke, what with the fanciful song titles and machine-gun playing. Her most recent album, Last Night I Heard the Dog Star Bark, was one of my favourite albums of 2025. I gave a listen to her album prior, 2020’s Strange Lights Over Garth Mountain, and while it was every bit as eerie and droney as Dog Star (the first track has a perfect metonymic title: “Incantation”)⁠, it’s much more patient in terms of attack and dynamics. It’s totally virtuosic but not clinical: Raymond is an expert at setting a mood with her playing. It’s extremely evocative stuff. I can’t wait to check out her debut from 2018 to complete the set.

#dd