I once wrote, without really believing it, that perhaps laughter is finite. I was once the chubby kid who danced in the middle of the kitchen to make her parents laugh. But I had forgotten what deep, carefree laughter sounded like, and for a while, it really felt I had used mine all up.
If I were to make a video of what it feels to listen to Phillip Phillips’ new album Collateral, it would start with a needle touching the black groves of a vinyl disc. Deeper and deeper, round and round we would go as the music would start to slowly unfold, revealing its promises and much awaited secrets.