Blackest Ever Black; 2015

It’s getting close to that time of the year where I make my way back to LA, where I surgically bolt my sunglasses to my head and breathe in the smoggy sunshine like I’m huffing paint fumes. Even if there’s no other reason to look forward to it, it’s one of the few times a year since I moved out to Chicago that I get to plant myself behind the wheel of some kind of car and drive aimlessly — sometimes for 50-mile stretches across fields of waving yellow grass, sometimes in 10-foot sprints wedged between other disgruntled motorists. Either way, it’s worth it.

I tend to find interest in driving music because it’s just the way I was brought up. My friends growing up can attest to the enormous pre-mp3 CD wallets and binders I had on the passenger seat. No trip could start without taking into account the occasion, time of day, weather and mood within a 50-foot radius of the parked car and selecting the correct soundtrack.

So, of course, with a track as steadily ambling as Tarcar‘s “Eija,” there’s no way I wouldn’t draw the parallel to a night drive past the Carson Refinery, with its short bursts of open flames and glimmering orange-brown lights that seem to go on forever. That enormous American flag, cut with semi-circles that look like tattering on a windy day, mirrors the calm, resonating strength behind Tarcar’s tender stoicism.

The best part of it all is that the connection I’m drawing really isn’t too far off from what was intended, since the track is appearing on a compilation by Blackest Ever Black and LA record shop Mount Analog, where the songs are “not about LA, but LA is present, unbidden, in all of them.”

The title of that comp is “I Can’t Give You The Life You Want” and is vinyl-only, which is a fittingly emotional and exclusive combination for the city it represents, and you can pre-order it through Mount Analog before its release in June 2015. In the meantime, you can hear Tarcar’s sample track below. Clutches are for worrywarts.