The Soft Rebellion of Harold Budd: A Lullaby for the Weird
Some musicians arrive like thunderclaps, all ego and elbow, pounding their genius into the earth like tent stakes at a festival of self-importance. But Harold Budd? He arrived like mist. Or maybe like the memory of mist. The kind that hovers quietly just above the ground, humming to itself, unbothered by gravity or genre. Budd called himself a "minimalist" with a grimace, as if the word were a beige carpet […]