Ray Something is a make-believe man. Ray Something is destiny.

I want you to think of the musicians you listen to as your brain and its memories. You'll experience songs by an artist named Ray Something who you'll forget twenty minutes after listening to his whole discography. You'll forget his hairstyle and his strumming the coarse strings of his guitar with a thumbnail, but you'll remember the way his voice sounded like pennies in a blender. 

And his interviews. Ray Something gave great interviews. "Ohio!" he screams, "Ohio is the best state in the Union! Everyone makes music in Ohio!" This excites you because somebody else refers to our country as a Union. Ray Something reminds you of marriage because he said "union" and marriage is a union. Ray Something always mentions, in some sly garble of words, that he's single. He probably dates women who look good in sun dresses. Their arms are pale and thin, Free from marriage. You imagine a sickly thin guy whose arms are covered in blotchy freckles and a tattoo of a Saab-Scania emblem looking towards a the lighting system hanging above his head in a studio. He might grabs the tail of his jacket and what he's about to say will speak to you.

"FREE DRINKS! HA... THEY'RE ON ME!" 

Then somebody pops the cap off a domestic microbrew and the cap slides down the side of the bottle into a small pile of other bottles from other domestics. The person conducting the interview is refreshed. You want to be refreshed. You reach your hand towards the speaker and hope Ray Something is generous.

He's generous and you're soon drunk. Brown bottles with red labels clutter your feet and Ray Something will soon be a memory that you can't remember. But not yet. Towards the end of the interview, the microphone falls to the floor, sending a dense slash of feedback through the speaker. Your ears hurt and you cover them and duck your head into your knees, as if you were anticipating a car crash from the back seat. Ray's voice gets quiet: a song on the radio fading into an advertisement. A deer's hooves crushing the layer of dead leaves on a path near the front of a cave.

Ray Something talks about a deal he made with someone for something. "There's something in it for everyone." You hear him moving back and forth in his seat. You hear his weight moving and squashing the clasps on the bottom of the cushion. People are walking around and the interview is ending. 

"Hey, give me that directory. I'm going to order everyone some drinks and they'll be on the house."