Soundtrack of the Quad of Flying Daggers
Some songs aren't just music; they become part of your emotional architecture. They slot in alongside formative books, shaping how you see the world. Carbon Leaf's "Maybe Today" is one of those for me.
The track came to me through Nik Olendzki, a friend and fellow Aikidoist at Carleton. It was a fixture of the Quad of Flying Daggers' atmosphere, drifting up from the beer-scarred laminate as you came in from the cold. The first time it played, the room fell quiet—everyone paused just to take it in.
A Structure of Recovery
At its heart, it's a rainy-day story about childhood, but it's equally a meditation on loss and coming back from it. That journey plays out over the song's ten minutes. It starts restrained, with a blue guitar, then unfolds into a free-form, brassy exploration punctuated by distortion, fluttering effects, and carefree high notes. The layering is so deliberate that when the final chorus finally breaks loose, the relief is tangible—like stepping out of a stuffy room after a long rain, running down a sunlit street where every leaf is wet and gleaming.
I feel like a kite high in a tree
Is this where I'm suppose to be?
I wish I was a little boy
When love was taken care of
The first listen happened during a winter trip home. Lying on the bed, I watched the wind roll through the Douglas Firs in waves past the window, the song scoring the scene.
Beyond the Title Track
That winter's copy came from Echo Echo, the album that carries the song. The rest of the record holds up well, though it runs notably brighter and more uptempo than the introspective mood "Maybe Today" sets. It's worth the time beyond just the title cut.
