Despite the ruins, Detroit is achingly beautiful. Also, there are some ruins
The first thing you notice about Detroit are the buildings. Those glittery monuments to Americana stretch and yawn towards lolling clouds while others seem to buckle and wrinkle under their own weight.
It’s awe-inspiring, but when you are looking face to face with the very real decline of western civilization it’s also more than a little terrifying. What can you do, I guess.
Tyson, Jeanette and I drive up to the border guard, who is completely perplexed why a Canadian indie rock band would come to America solely to “have supper.” Especially in a city that is decaying like the innards of a BBQ left out to rust in the rain. But it’s a mosquito bite shot-in-the-arm in a flagging economy, and we are ushered in with little hassle.
Once inside Detroit, we race between every shambling mound of wood, window and steel and furiously snap photos. I feel devastatingly self-conscious – it’s one thing to view ruin porn, but it’s another thing entirely to be a ruin pornographer.
– From “Please Stop Paying So Much Attention”, forthcoming Slow Down Molasses tour diaries
