1. Damaged Goods – Gang of Four
It’s more than lust. I’d drink your sweat from a shoe.
2. My Life in Art – Mojave 3
Tell me all about your prettyboy friends. Europe seems further all the time.
3. Vomiting Mirrors – Clockcleaner
I know what she does and why.
4. In the Morning – Built to Spill
Feeling half-right, feeling normal– just an all-too isolated incident.
5. Hypercommunication – Poni Hoax
6. Happy Already – Sportsguitar
Happy?
7. Gojam Province, 1968
The city’s gonna burn and we’ll still have to wait our turn- the last among contenders of the superfeatherweights.
8. Mile Me Deaf
You got nothing to say, so just say it.
9. More like the Moon
Why don’t you come to me now more like you are.
10. Flash Ram
Flip the switch burn me again, spark me out.
I travel to and fro, and I lean toward the day less than a month from now when I land in the Pacific Northwest, drink the beer, bathe in the water, breathe the air.
Do you believe in reincarnation? She put the question to me recently. Perhaps she phrased it, “What do you think about reincarnation?” instead. This was last weekend, after we had just seen Unmistaken Child.
What do I think of it? I have the vanity to think the same way that Adam Duritz did when he penned those words that buoyed me through those ignorant summers as high school was slinking up sideways to an end. “I’ve been here before, and I deserve a little more.”
I, now 32 years old, in perfect health begin…
I read and reread as though I am reading myself the words of the gone patriots of the renamed streets of time-deserted cantons and arrondissements in worlds that could be here today if we didn’t today think like fish and possess powers of recall even less exemplary. If we loved half as honestly as we are diligent in tossing the only minutes of our lives out the closing asshole of our sum total of days.
A little music in moments, and maybe I’d like to think seriously about reincarnation, about anything. About the long view of anything. I certainly need something more extended than the burn of flash ram spackling the leads of of my brainpan with coke and robbing me of my taste and capacity for the longer-viewed things. Something better than the false gestalt of all this insincere misuse of communication.
So to the Pacific Northwest I am pointing, with it in mind to pause a moment and gather the important thoughts.
Recent Comments