‘Music,” David Lynch said when I spoke to him for the Guardian last year, “is a magic”. We were discussing the album Cellophane Memories, which he had produced with singer Chrystabell: a beautiful, dreamlike, archetypically Lynchian record, which – with his death this week at the age of 78 – would be his last.
While he started out as a painter and found global fame as a director through surrealist masterpieces like Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive, Lynch maintained a passion for music all his life – from his bizarre sonic experiments for film, to his own albums, to his collaborations with the likes of Julee Cruise, Flying Lotus and Angelo Badalamenti.
