Gospel of the Left Behind
This weekend, I’m launching 10 Songs — a project that’s been quietly taking shape for years: a personal archive, an emotional journal, a way of tracing seasons, memories, and feelings through music.
It feels right to launch today, on the day some call Resurrection Day. Because this project — in ways I didn’t always realize — has been a diary of my own slow resurrection. A quiet reinvention, stitched together ten songs at a time.
Gospel of the Left Behind is the featured mixtape this week, and it feels fitting. Some gospels are written for the triumphant. This one is written for the ones still standing after the endings. For those who carry grief without letting it close their eyes to wonder. For those who find awe not in promises kept, but in the stubborn, fragile beauty of what remains.
Peter Gabriel opens the door with Mercy Street — a dreamscape of memory, forgiveness, and loss. Low’s Holy Ghost hums with a prayer too broken to finish but too real to abandon. Nick Cave brings the weight of mourning in Jesus Alone, while Gossip plants a defiant flag with Standing in the Way of Control.
Some songs rage. Some crumble. Some gather you up when you didn’t realize you needed gathering.
As you move through the mixtape, it feels like walking through a cathedral of the lost — light pouring through broken windows, echoes catching on half-fallen stones. Not a place abandoned. A place reimagined. Launching this site feels a little like leaving the door unlocked to that cathedral.
I’m proud of what this site has become — this scrapbook, this love letter, this small act of defiance against forgetting. I hope you find something here worth holding onto. Thanks for being part of the beginning.
With love and music,
Samuel