Miracle Mile's last album was 2013's 'In Cassidy's Care'.
It's genesis is perhaps worth repeating; it might even lead you to the album for the first time. I have a few spare copies...
The album is based on the story of a friend in need.
I wrote letters to him.
The letters became a story.
The story became songs.
The songs became an album.
I'm going to post a chapter a day.
‘In Cassidy’s Care’ details the trials of the titular character’s ordinary life, charting the small dramas that inform Cassidy’s fall and final redemption as he recognises his victories and losses and learns to hold them close. If you don’t come to care for the man, at least maybe you’ll learn to whistle his tune…
We’re all connected by our unravellings; a recognition that can be a comfort of sorts. A good friend (let's call him 'Cassidy') was having problems. His life was as disheveled as his appearance; he was coming apart at the seams. He needed to speak about this dishevelment but wasn't taking advice. My sympathetic gaze was met with the blank stare of a man marinating in misery. What to do? I thought about writing him a letter. No one writes letters these days so maybe that correspondence would resonate; he might take notice. So I wrote out his story, detailing things as objectively as possible, that he might better see his predicament and move beyond it. But oddly, as I kept writing, this letter to a friend became something else; a work of fiction. I had a title; 'In Cassidy's Care' and soon the thing had its own momentum. I used Cassidy's situation and personality for the narrative and found him a great point of reference; he never let me down. It was no surprise when I found myself writing songs that related directly to the predicaments of the Cassidy character. I presented Marcus with those small dramas and he developed the musical landscape in which our hero now abides. Small dramas indeed, his story is as mundane and relevant as yours and mine.
Beyond fiction, thanks to Cassidy for letting us hang the fabric of this fiction so loosely on his bones. He's still disheveled but you'd find him a much happier man these days; in fact, if you knew where to look, you wouldn't recognise him at all...
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