As I listen to Korky my brain malfunctioned and started to think about the first time I heard that beautiful melody. Some parts of the memory should be left on their own, and now I remember, again, thanks to marvels of the as always.

It was 15 years ago, I was eating my tuna sandwich at the university canteen while reading the newspaper as some students from the fine arts were talking about Korky and its music at the table next to me. The bulky one started singing the first song of the new album, it was then I learned that weight has nothing to do with the voice. Fantastic performance! Oh here is the part that I wish to forget… A Signoan gal from exchange students sat on my table without asking and with a smile she said ”You must be Josh. I heard you got the good stuff. Can I have some?”. She was talking about the study notes for the final exam of CULH-303…

”My dad used to listen to Korky when I was a kid. Especially this album, such a mood raiser…” Lars interrupted my glitching thoughts. I should get this checked at a psychologist before a fatal error.

”Yeah, it has that effect on most people. Sadly it brings old memories to me.” Normally a pop rock-album doesn’t sadden the listener but heartache comes in different shapes and sizes.

”Do you wanna talk about that memory?” asked Lars with a sincere voice.

”It brought memories of the one I lost. I loved her, I really loved her, I loved everything about her… The laugh, mostly…” I still miss her and now everything that reminds me of her makes me cry on the inside. Good thing I didn’t say the last part out loud.

”What happened to her?” Ah, If only I could know.

”She was in her homeland, Signoa, when the first bombs fell. I couldn’t reach her at the time of the war, but I went there after the war has ended. I couldn’t find her though. I… I hope… I hope I only lost her in the literal meaning.” I was a government worker and even I didn’t know that there was going to be a surprise annexation. I still wonder to this day if there was a way to save her…

”I lost a loved one in the war too. I don’t know if knowing her fate makes it easier but I know it. My love died, gotten killed. She was a medic at the time of war and a trigger-happy sentry shot at her, mistaking her for the enemy. He got his fair share of battle trauma after that.” Another similarity of the past…

”Is your trip about that gal, Lars?” My money is on the positive answer for this one.

”Yes. I never had the courage to visit her grave, until now. We never got the chance to drink the Moluke and on my last trip to the east, I bought a bottle of it. She had always wondered about the taste of that milky alcohol, now we will learn together.”

Once the album was over, Lars put the cassette on its cover and I realized I got a better album for this conversation, an old album from the times of my father. ”Lars, can you play the Ally Bow Sings The Aches.”

”Sure thing. I never heard of that before though.” Oh, Lars, you are going to love it.