American Sacred Music – “Fig on Wrist”

Fig on Wrist

I’m at a stage in life where I am obsessed with romanticizing the mundane. It can be something as rote as housework, errands, or commuting, but I insist on finding a way to make it feel special. For example, I’ll pick a favorite perfume to wear, put on a cozy outfit, or make an iced coffee for the road. In my experience, a non-negotiable for romanticizing anything is listening to a really long, atmospheric song. To make the most of this feeling, I prefer songs that feel otherworldly and have at least a ten-minute run time. This style of music is immersive and vast, wrapping the listener in its layers of droning, textural sound and giving you enough time to get lost. 

Luckily for me, American Sacred Music has just put out a breathtakingly expansive track titled “Fig on Wrist” that feels like the perfect listening experience for autumn. AP Lewis, an Atlanta-based artist, is the man behind the project. I had the pleasure of interviewing him earlier this year to discuss his work with the label, his releases, and our shared views on creativity. According to him, the song and accompanying short film are “the most completely realized version of whatever it is that I've been trying to do all these years.” 

“Fig on Wrist” is drenched in layer upon layer of feedback, spoken word lyrics, and droning hums that settle in my ears like chilly fog. The effect is uncanny: for though I distinctly felt that the song was building somewhere, it never arrives at a defined endpoint. I was left with a paradox of emotion after listening. Unresolve and finality sat side by side, and I was reminded of the bittersweet conflict I feel as I grow older. I am privileged to grow older, yet I feel time slipping through my fingers as the sun rises and sets over and over. I should feel like there is an arrival, but I never do – it’s always just around the corner.

The short film adds to the eerie nature of the music as rotating images of deer, uncanny footage of childhood memories, forest scenery, and live fire layer together. Sometimes the visuals linger like ghosts; other times they flicker rapidly from one to another, leaving the viewer mesmerized and unable to anticipate the next scene. “I wanted to self-mythologize,” says AP Lewis of the meaning behind this project. “While I don’t think my past experiences are particularly noteworthy in the grand scheme of things, they are the only experiences I have.” And truly, what do any of us have besides our own experiences? “Fig on Wrist” is a moving portrayal of an artist’s willingness to share his inner world and the experiences that shaped him. We’re lucky to catch a glimpse of them.