I havenâ€™t decided if William Fitzsimmons is a bastard with an irritating beard, or the undiscovered perfect boyfriend I missed sitting in the back of my most boring college class. Perhaps heâ€™s both, and maybe I dated his evil angelic twin. Joseph, the boy who knew heâ€™d never fight with his true love; the artist who was so sure heâ€™d leave his young family in the dark of night.
Fitzsimmons’ most recent album, â€œThe Sparrow and the Crowâ€ is about divorce. His divorce, but Iâ€™m certain any divorcee could glean some ah-ha from listening. Call it music to listen to once youâ€™ve accepted what has happened, comfortable with it or not. With a Masterâ€™s Degree in mental health you have to hope heâ€™s got solid ideas about the delicacy of marriage. The joy that aches.
If You Would Come Back Home is officially on repeat in my head, rarely interrupted for a week. Itâ€™s a nice sunshine melancholy soundtrack to the spectacularly mundane everyday stuff. He understands what took me so long to see, good writing is not about the fanciest words, itâ€™s about the perfect arrangement of the most simple words.
(by our friend Emily M.)