I was listening to an interview on NPR on Saturday with British rapper Ben Drew (“Plan B”), and at one point he said, to paraphrase, that the best art comes from pain. I think there’s a lot of truth to that statement, although I realize I’m taking it out of context. For me, music often comes from a place of pain, but not the raised-on-the-streets variety or the earth-shattering type like from a death or something traumatic. It’s more this subtle pain or melancholy in time passing, in kids growing and seasons changing. It’s not rooted in gloom or despair, but almost in a sort of bittersweet nostalgia, a wish that beautiful things could remain for more than a fleeting moment.