Whistler is a trio from Britain. Their self-titled album has recently been released by Wiiija in the United Kingdom, and Beggars Banquet in the United States. The band has a spare sound, reminiscent of Tracey Thorn's A Distant Shore, or the Young Marble Giants' Alison Statton, employing the often forgotten idea that a quiet song can be more affecting than one that is loud. There is no need to shout when speaking quietly will accomplish the same goal.

"Every time I wound your pride, are you going to fake a suicide?"
"You're running out of games to play and I've played all of mine"

There is certain ease to death--dying is simple, but living through requires more courage. Or those that stay alive are just miserable enough not to give it all up. Jonathan knew this, but he continued to play his games in love. An odd phone call here, a threat there--he used emotions to manipulate the heartstrings of his lovers. Until they caught on and called his bluff: what he said was as empty as a story without a plot. He thought, if love is a game, I must win at all price. But he had to remind himself that after every break-up, harsh word, and threat. It was a tedious ritual, and no one ever wanted to play his game with him very long. His friends told him that there was little difference winning and losing in love, or that games as this were not a simple matter. You're young, they said, wait until you find the one that plays better than you yourself. Jonathan probably already knew that too, but he continued his warpath. He was heading for a fall, hidden in the face of everyone he passed on the street.

"You're tragic, yes I know, you think it's part of the job though"

Timothy had accepted sadness as part of his life. He could not recall when that event happened--a letter awarding sadness for life had never been received, if one sent at all. The curtains were kept closed, and days were spent in bed, somewhere between sleeping and waking. He explanations to his friends always fell short, ending with "it's just... I don't know". His friends replied that he was too old for teenage angst any longer. Timothy thought he was just too young to take on adult angst. Emily told him that she fancied him that one afternoon. She had to repeat her declaration before he showed any sign of comprehension. "Aren't you going to say anything?," she asked. "I'm not sure this involves me--it is your heart," he muttered. "This certainly does involve you! This little act you have isn't gaining you any friends." He turned his head to look at her: "It isn't an act--it is just the way things are." Emily stood and said, "You are tragic, and it isn't becoming." He could only answer with "it's just.... I don't know."

"It isn't hard to do sorrow or say 'I love you'"

"I only came to ask you how you're getting on because we hadn't spoken for so long"</i><p>
Patrick was smoking his last cigarette of the day secretly on the patio behind his parents' house. He had gone out to call the cat inside for the night. The cat sat on the bench with her paws dangling over the edge after he had come outside. She stared at him with as much a smile as a cat can smile as he kept calling her name to justify his being outside. He exhaled looking at the stars in the sky; the smoke curled its way through the light from the house and the branches overhead. There were many ghosts residing at the house that were visible in his cigarette smoke; Patrick saw, and in turn, considered each of them. The ghosts wished to talk about the past as that was all they had to do--replay life's tragedies. But Patrick had an interest in the future. He thought, "Life is rather short, and it isn't hard to do sorrow. Maybe if I had another life to spare, I could worry about the sadder side of things. I am actually happy for once in my life, and the forecast is loveliness and plain sailing." Patrick put out his cigarette on the cold patio stone. He walked up the steps two at a time, trailed by the cat, to the back door. He was in a hurry as he wanted to get inside and write everything down before he had forgotten.

"Look at me I'm smiling at you, what is there to fear?"