The Memory Hole

Listen to the Song:

This track has morphed through many iterations before reaching this final Reflections of Relevance version. Originally an instrumental piece starting in 2005, the song was developed into a tune called “Sister Josephine” and recorded in 2008 for Imaginary Lines 33. In 2016, the song was reworked as “The Memory Hole” and released as the debut Sinclair Soul single. The song was reworked and remixed a final time in late 2017 for inclusion on Reflections of Relevance.

This song features a linear arrangement which brings the listener through a diversity of moods as the music migrates from a heavily rhythmic section to more ethereal parts to match the strongly introspective lyrics.


Ric Albano – vocals, piano, bass, keyboards
Bret Alexander – lead guitar
Ron Simasek – drums


As I walk down the road with my head and my soul in my arms again
I start to seriously wonder if I’ll ever be able to get back again
It perplexes my heart that I can’t remember the start or even why I began
So I’ll circle once more, search for the parallel door and try to understand
Why my memory has holes, in particular those of the pleasurable
Have I become so inept that my very next step seems so immeasurable?
Then I silently shout “what’s this crisis about?
And why can’t I just be happy with the life I’ve seen?”
I try to get up once more, but instead fall through the floor,
Through the cracks in between
Oh, no one knows the trouble that I have seen
Please help me Sister Josephine

A change in the tempo to find where to begin
The rhythm of life will be coming back again
A little more action, a little less shame
A little more passion that the song remains the same

A change in the temple, that’s the place to begin
The rhythm of life will be coming back again
A little more action, a little less shame,
Of fortune and glory that song we’ll rearrange

And if I ever become human again and worthy of friends
Could I? Should I? Would I ever get to see you again?

© 2008-2018 Ric Albano and Cygnus Wave Records

The Memory Hole