I've got a long list of things I "love" (certainly much long than this)...
I love yellow corn grits with parmesan cheese and maple syrup.
I love condiments of all kinds (but dijon mustard most of all).
I love everything bagels with cream cheese and lox from Murray's Bagels.
I love pork chops.
I love the color brown.
I love mid-century modern design.
I love releasing music by people who I respect.
I love Neil Young, Belle & Sebastian, Bert Jansch, Unwound, Grouper, Lungfish, Polvo, Pentangle, Sun Ra and some others.
I love living on the east coast because the beach is only a short drive away.
I love my parents for giving me the freedom to become exactly who I wanted to be even when they knew I was probably making some wrong decisions at the time.
I love my wife for her never-ending patience and support. She's also lots of fun to spend time with.
I love my sisters even though I don't see either of them as much as I'd like.
I love New York. Growing up here was amazing and I love that we're raising our kids here too.
I love visiting New Mexico because of how quiet it is and how big the sky is and how great the food is.
As I've matured I realize that 'feeling love' goes well beyond just being able to assign a some words to people and things. In the last five years it's taken on meanings that I never really considered. It has more to do with feelings that are much harder to define, that are latent and perhaps unmeasurable. It's a feeling that creeps up on you, reveals itself and even surprises you. You feel it deeply in your chest or it just keeps you awake at night.
I love my friends but I didn't realize how much until they moved 5,000 miles away. New York has become an infinitely lonelier place without them.
I love my wife but certainly never felt it the way I did after watching her give birth to the two single most incredible dudes in the world. She's also an amazing mother.
I love eating out but so much more when the whole family goes out to dinner and finds a dark, cozy corner to enjoy being with each other.
I love sleeping but never the way I do when one of my little guys climbs into bed with us and falls asleep on my back.
I love watching Oliver play games but much more when he loses and with a big smile he congratulates the person that just beat him.
These instances just keep multiplying for me. This kind of love just continues to grow. It creeps into every pore. It's hard to run away from. The best few words that I could find to describe it has already been called out in @jjuuddggee's post and comes from the title of most recent Arthur Russell album "Love is Overtaking Me". I think what illustrates it best for me is when I look into my guys' room and see them playing together quietly. They are slowly passing toys back and forth, coloring on the same piece of paper, the older one showing the younger how something works, helping to turn something on or open it the right way. They are sharing a series of moments. Looking in on them I see them falling in love with each other. It's that simple. They don't know it yet but it's growing. Love is overtaking them too. Love is overtaking us all.
Like the other dogs I've known, he loves unconditionally with an unwavering loyalty and devotion. His seemingly boundless happiness enhances a good mood and erases a bad one. His desire to please and retrieve is insatiable, his intelligence and intuition remarkable and his sense of the absurd completely uproarious. Coming home to a welcoming dog never loses it's appeal, sitting by a fire with a dog at your feet listening to Belle And Sebastian feels like a perfect moment, driving through the countryside with your dog while loudly singing along to If You're Feeling Sinister feels like another. I love all these moments with my dog and better still he does too! Dogs rule and loving them is easy.
All knowledge, the totality of all questions and all answers is contained in the dog." - Kafka
Greetings from the East.
I caught (NAME REDACTED) in Columbus last night. I'm not from the area, just visiting family for the holiday.
I'll cut to the chase.
You've got a very impressive band in your house.
They have a great sound and seem to really capture a crowd.
Anyway, this is not my typical protocol for a business-related matter, but I didn't get a chance to meet the band before they left the show last night.
I'd love to schedule a meeting, and talk about getting these guys a 2 album record deal.
Can you pass me their information along with any contracts related to (NAME REDACTED) & the band?
If I don't hear back, I'll try to call the phone number listed on your website. Is that info up to date?
There's Too Much Love.
Like most of the Matador employees that have written about love over the past couple of weeks, I've really struggled to know what to write here. At first, as miserable as it sounds, I couldn't think of anything to write. What is love?! Then I suddenly had too much. There are of course the people I love, places I love and many 'things' that I love, but sitting down and thinking about it all was far more of an emotional journey that I had anticipated. I nearly wrote about Potatoes, as recommended by Mr Braithwaite, but I hope this is a more sincere interpretation of the subject and a better read than my love of mash and roasties.
New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down.
I love some pretty obvious stuff. I love New York City. I love my battered brogues that I can't bring myself to throw away. I love sleeping. I love record stores and the excitement in the pit of my stomach when I find something I've been searching for. I love ATP. I love sushi an unhealthy amount. I love my job and some of the insane situations I've found myself in with the three ridiculous men I refer to as my bosses.
I love Hardcore Boys, I love Boys Hardcore.
I love Gary Numan. I love Arthur Russell. I love The Jesus Lizard. I love Belle and Sebastian and I can still remember exactly where I was when I first heard the late, great John Peel play The Boy With The Arab Strap on his late night radio show, aged 15. I love Fugazi and I pray that one day I might get to see them live. I love the British Summer and the mud-soaked festivals.
The Power of Love.
But that is all one type of love. Then there's being IN LOVE (or at least thinking you are), but the less said about that the better. Then there's the love that you don't realise is so strong until it's out of your life.
Love Will Tear Us Apart.
I didn't think it was possible to not realise how much you love someone until they're gone. But I found that out the hard way earlier this year. That is real love and it will stick with you forever.
I really do love mashed potatoes.
Its a pretty weighty subject to be handed for all the mata-world to see, and there's a lot of things I love, but I decided to try and just stick to one subject - the humble mixtape.
Sure, it’s often seen as a sign of love or affection itself, but the creation and/or dissection of a mixtape is the thing I love the most. The early days consisted of planning cassette tape mixes based on song length (written by pencil on paper, of course), plotting the running order and fitting as much music as possible to each side of a 90 minute cassette, then programming the triple (!) disc CD player in my bedroom and over-analysing the finished product. These days all that’s been replaced by the itunes mix CD and now mp3 playlists, which sadly loses the design and tactile elements, but the best thing about these mixes is of course the music. Because of that I thought I’d share some videos of the songs that have featured on mix tapes that I’ve received or created over the years.
- A brilliant opening lyric for the surprise mix CD, when the recipient hasn’t a clue they were receiving a mix, or as to what lies ahead.
- This was actually the first Belle & Sebastian song I heard, and what a great introduction it was.
- It’s the variation which you just don’t get anywhere else that makes these mixes so great, I never thought I’d ever be sent anything like this, or have to try and work out what someone’s trying to tell me (or not) through song, but that’s all a part of it I suppose.
- Some songs have appeared again and again, and again in mixes sent to me
- Sometimes it’s just about capturing someone’s attention for a minute (and 30 seconds)
- Or sharing 44 seconds of a band someone might have never heard before otherwise
- and my own (old) golden rule – each good mixtape has to have a good cover song.
In the spirit of the modern take on the mixtape, I also made a Spotify playlist, for those of you who have access (sorry non-European folk!).
Archers Of Loaf – Web In Front
Hot Snakes – LAX
Colossal – The Serious Kind
Fucked Up – I Hate Summer
These Arms Are Snakes – The Blue Rose
Final Fantasy – The CN Tower Belongs To The Dead
Adem – These Are Your Friends
Paul Baribeau – I Miss That Band
Maps & Atlases – If This Is
Envy – Dreams Come To An End
Factory Floor – Lying
Dilated Peoples – Worst Comes To Worst
Superchunk – Digging For Something
Tall Firs – Hairdo
Eddy Current Suppression Ring – Wrapped Up
American Football – Never Meant
Susanna Vapnek - NYC-based painter and collage artist, as well as documentary filmmaker. Designed the sleeves to several records by Spoon.
http://www.susannavapnek.com/ (24" x 16")
Frank Longo - Virginia based artist and designer, worked for several years as graphic designer at Matador Records, designed the books for Slanted & Enchanted: Luxe & Reduxe and the Matador at 21 box set (18" x 24")
James McNew - Brooklyn-based musician and artist. Bass player, multi-instrumentalist, and occasional lead singer in Yo La Tengo. Also well known for his four-track home-recorded project Dump. (16.5" x 24")
Mogollon - very well known NYC design firm, does work across the fields of fashion, music, editorial, etc., from Madonna to Om Records to Tush Magazine. Also designed a Matador label T-shirt http://www.mogollon-ny.com (18" x 24")
SOLD OUT! Lindsay Shutt - Memphis-based artist, designed one of the 7"es in the limited-edition Jay Reatard series (Always Wanting More) http://lindsayshutt.blogspot.com EDIT: & http://www.jezebelitwasyou.blogspot.com (18" x 24")
We also have a few of the American Apparel t-shirts from the event left over (in all sizes right now) --- pick them up at the store Store & act fast as these shirts are in limited supply!
Sincere apologies to Raymond Carver for the headline. Man, if I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me, "what's the deal with that Courtney polaroid?", well, I wouldn't have enough money for a Torchy's Taco. So imagine my surprise when Nils told me I'd been assigned to write an essay on the subject! To be perfectly frank, I'm not sure what would've possessed Courtney to deface the walls of a perfectly good Seattle home, but keep in mind, she also agreed to appear in "200 Cigarettes". So her judgment hasn't always been super sharp.
All kidding aside, there have been a handful of collisions w/ Ms. Love and myself during Matador's storied history. The above snapshot --- culled from a photo session for Newsweek -- was probably provoked by any number of nasty comments I probably composed in the pages of Conflict, CMJ or the New England Journal of Medicine. Shortly after Courtney left a rather profane rant on our answering machine (she seemed to take great exception to Chris Lombardi's outgoing message --- our fearless founder shouting the praises of "Matador recording artists, U2" while "I Will Follow" blared away in the background) we were introduced on a Los Angeles sidewalk by a rock biz colleague. She mentioned something about our forming our own personal branch of MENSA, which I took to be a huge compliment --- until I later learned she'd used the same line on Evan Dando, Wings Hauser, former Raiders QB Todd Marinovich and most distressingly, newsman Irving R. Levine.
The name calling and rancor eventually came to a halt -- mostly because Scott Weiland provided so much easy copy over the years. But this exercise has proven rather instructive for me. Just what exactly do I have against a very wealthy multi-talented woman with whom I have so very much in common? Our similarities are uncanny ; we each survived marriages to far more successful, talented musicians. Both parties' "loose cannon" reputations stand in the way of major Hollywood parts. Courtney's made the transition from rock icon to fashion blogger...and so have I! So in the spirit of the impending holiday season, I'm declaring a moratorium on the Courtney-bashing. From this moment onwards, if you want to take a shot at her, you'll have to get thru me first. Wayne Gretzky had Dave Semenko, Michael Jordan had Charles Oakley, George W. Bush had Karl Rove. Since none of those gentlemen are available to assist Courtney Love, now she's got me.
I gave my heart to music when I was 7 years old in San Jose, California. My family had just arrived in America from Russia. Our first home was a one-bedroom apartment across from the projects on Cherry Street. I still remember my mom unpacking the box of records she'd brought from Russia and setting up our JCC-provided turntable. Some of the records were children's stories, some were classical music but it was the state-issued bootlegs of rock & roll that caught my attention. I'd listen to those Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney and Aquarium (Russian rock band) albums and feel this new bubbling joy. I'd roll around on the floor laughing hysterically just from being so overwhelmed by feeling. My mom gave me the Definitive Illustrated Encyclopedia of Rock for my 10th birthday. I pored over its pages, memorizing the artists, drawing stories from their photos and imagining the significance of the song titles found in their singles charts. I loved that book, and I loved every song I could track down from it. To top it off, I didn't have to fear loving these songs. They wouldn't leave, they wouldn't make me feel hurt, alien, lost or confused. Every time I listened they would give more than they had before, unpacking stories and feelings, an endless amount of gifts that rewarded commitment. You could pass this love along, a song played for a friend, a shared experience could bond you. Even as I got older and continued to be afraid of committing to loving and trusting people, I knew I could at least share love with them through music, we could experience a fearless love together by cherishing something that was beyond ourselves. We could find ourselves and our feelings for each other in our love for a song.
"I was feeling so sad alone then I found a friend in this song I was singing. I was feeling like a nothing inside then I found it all in a song." -Girls "Darling"
Before really knowing what love was, I learned the language of love songs. For better or worse, every loving relationship I've had has used those songs as a watermark. Does spending time with this person feel like the lyrics to "Ring of Fire"? Is that good or bad!? Is this feeling of watching my girlfriend sleep what Curtis Mayfield felt in "I'm So Proud"? And to summon Curtis again, does the breakup summon the same fire as "7 Years"? I don't really cook, I can't sing, write songs or poems, can't paint, I express my emotions with the hyperbole laden maturity of a 10 year old, honestly. The only certain way I could find to say what I meant to someone or understand it myself, was in sharing a song. No fumbling words, no uncertainty or compromise. What is there in our world that's harder to express than love? Hate, fear, joy and anxiety are easy. But love is all those things and more. It's so massive, so powerful. My sister who is one of the people I love most in this world recently turned 10 and got her own email account and we now send songs and itunes links back and forth to each other. Her fearless love of the people and world around her, despite experiences that would've crippled another child inspire me every day. Sure on one hand the exchanges are pedagogical, but I like to think there is something else at play. That in sharing the songs that speak to us we're building a common language to understand our familial love for each other. I guess that impulse runs in our blood. Anyhow, it's more effective than emoticons.
"Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces."" -Hannah Arendt
Love is not democratic. Reflexively, the job of the love song is not to build communities. Morality has no place in a love song. The love song's purpose is to give two people the tools they need to understand this fearsome thing they have between them, being in love puts you in conflict with the world outside of that relationship- all the elements that challenge and disrupt that already destabilizing bond. Aristotle said that love is a "single soul dwelling in two bodies". The perfect love song helps us understand this alien inhabitant that bonds us together with another/disrupts our lives.
I've often tried to understand why despite being such a sap I've been so drawn to angry music and its various political & social structures. In times in my life, as with a lot of young peoples lives to a certain extent, when love fails to show up, lets you down or leaves you behind, there's a certain comfort in building ad-hoc communities based around rejection and disillusionment. It's ironic that Belle & Sebastian are the inspiration for this way too long ramble then. Because in high school, at the apex of submersion into hardcore and punk, I found a band that spoke to our need to love. That despite being a little strange and frustrated teenager love wasn't something to fear. It carried riches and experiences that were invisible to those who push love away. It hurts, dies, comes back, changes heats up and cools down but the moments that it burns inside of us define our lives. Life is hard. People you love, family members, friends and other loved one screw you over, betray you and lie. But succumbing to fear and letting your past pain block your ability to embrace love is giving up life's greatest treasure. I'm eternally grateful to B&S for reminding me of that.
My heart belongs to music because it's the best way I've found to process the love that has come and gone in my life, and the best vessel i've found for sharing it. It binds my family together, and reminds me to stay open to love that comes in the future. Music is my lifelong bleeding-heart companion, and every day I feel grateful that my life is based around sharing and treasuring its bounty. Maybe it's not the most sophisticated way to live, but at age 28, it might be a little too late to change. Oh well...LET IT BLEED!
("Devotion", live at ATP, Minehead, May 14, 2010)
It's been nearly a full calendar year since Mission Of Burma provided the Empire or Garden States with what the social crusaders like to call "teaching moments". Thankfully, the drought is nearly over, with new shows confirmed at Maxwell's on January 28 and Brooklyn's Bell House on January 29. Tickets are on sale now.
photo by Reuben Cox
Pitchfork's been chronicling a sneak peek into the experience that was Matador at 21: The Lost Weekend. Check out some behind-the-scenes action by heading over to Pitchfork TV where they're rolling out documentary footage from "The Lost Weekend" as we speak. Right now you can watch Chris Lombardi and Fucked Up's Damian Abraham take you on a tour of the concert grounds (from the Pearl Ballroom to the Hardwood Suite) , Girls' Christopher Owens performing new tracks in a bathtub, Fucked Up and Ted Leo & The Pharmacists engaging in a legendary battle of the bands, and most recently:
Damian on The Old Strip:
Bob Nastanovich - The Gambler:
Kurt Vile - "Hunchback" (at the Palms Ballroom):
Times New Viking - "Natural Resources, I Love Mine" (at the Palms Ballroom):
The Clean - "Anything Could Happen" (at the Palms Ballroom):
Keep up with Pitchfork for Matador at 21 videos.
Myspace Music also covered the event with live concert highlights from Pavement, Come, Chavez, Fucked Up, The New Pornographers, Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, Shearwater, Guided By Voices, Liz Phair, Sonic Youth and more.
Why is today such a great day to Write About Love? We'll get to that in a minute.
I certainly love my wife. I love my two kids more than I ever thought possible to love anything. I love my parents. I love my two brothers. (This could go on like a thank you speech, sorry if i've left you out... you know who you are.)
I also "love" burritos from La Taqueria on Mission and 25th. But let's be honest, that's not the same as that prehistoric jolt of adrenalin that probably evolved into "love". (Though I'd be bummed if I left La Taq's carne asada burrito alone to fend for itself on the dusted plains of the serengeti.)
But that's love, man.
It's all the gradations in a color wheel. Love is inclusive like that which fuels a damned Matador Records contest.
So what kind of love am I writing about?
It's all love, man.
Today is November 22 and a poke around Wikipedia shows that either this isn't a great day in history for most forms of love or that anyone editing Wikipedia doesn't hold much reverence for celebrating love.
I choose the latter, but just to be sure....
As you clickthrough to Wikipedia, for at least a brief time.... today is now officially "International Write About Love Day". (UPDATE: The birkenstocks and socks legion of Wikipedia editors has since killed this holiday.)
Like all good things, let's hope it catches on, @BellesGlasgow!
Delorean continue their US tour w/Lemonade tonight in Montreal. They hit Manhattan's Bowery Ballroom on Sunday.
Fri Nov 19 – Le Belmont – Montreal, QC *
Sat Nov 20 – Middle East Downstairs – Cambridge, MA *
Sun Nov 21 - Bowery Ballroom - New York, NY *
Mon Nov 22 – First Unitarian Church – Philadelphia, PA *
Tue Nov 23 – Rock and Roll Hotel – Washington, DC *
Buy Subiza HERE
Delorean Live On Fuel TV
Just after I graduated from high school, I was deeply in love with a younger classmate and best friend who was straight. We had bonded over hardcore shows, reading books and record collecting, so it was only natural that I tried to lose myself in books and music. One obscure book I happened upon at the time was Lord Dismiss Us by Michael Campbell, a novel of boarding school love. I read it obsessively to the soundtrack of Odessey & Oracle, a mint copy of which on Date I had just bought for the then unheard of price of $20. In 1983 gay kids weren't out in high school and the only Zombies songs anyone knew were "She's Not There" and "Time Of The Season," so the album was a revelation. To my tortured mind the baroque song Changes perfectly caught the autumnal mood of the book. With great difficulty I got my friend to read it, obviously incredibly awkward given the nature of our relationship. His verdict (dad an English professor) was that it was "not very well written."
All those feelings seem very long ago, and "Changes" just sounds like a great English pop song (if a very strange one). But what defines love for me now is a song by a band who seemed like the Zombies of the '80s, even though they're completely forgotten today: Squeeze. Back then love was the most intense emotion, the absolute. Now it's the day to day companionship, the little things: "You made my bed, the fingerpoints, now is that love? The more you more you more you cool down, the easier love is found - now that is love." From the Zombies to Squeeze, from infatuation to security: it's a tenuous emotional thread, but somehow the feeling is the same.
I still collect boarding school romance novels.
The stag uses its antlers in combat, the nightingale does not sing in vain, but our books avail us nothing. This wound will not heal.
All we have is the yellow walls of houses, lit by the sun; we have our books and we have man's entire civilization, built by us on the way to love.
And the precept to be light-hearted.
But what about all the pain?
Give everything a cosmic dimension, take your heart in your teeth, write a book."
from 'Zoo or Letters Not About Love' Viktor Shklovsky, 1923 (trans. Richard Sheldon)
Well, for me, noone sings/cries the word "love" with more power than Van Morrison on "Madame George". And no album makes me love or weep more than Astral Weeks.
The last time I wept to AW, in fact, was on a plane ride home from this. Apologies to the woman sitting next to me. It cannot be helped when you're at high altitudes, sleep deprived, quite possibly still drunk and listening to this..."And the love that loves the love that loves the love that loves the love that loves to love the love that loves to love the love that loves."
I love waking up late on the weekends with my love (hi, Pete); reading the paper and watching Meet The Press The Soup. I love most old things: books, music, movies, buildings, fashion, John Slattery, etc.
Sometimes I think maybe I've stopped loving my first love, Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Then I remember, I never actually cancelled my membership in the JTT Fan Club. So technically speaking that love is still going.
I love my little brothers (see you dudes, Tuesday!) & Mom and Dad and the holidays with all of them. I love anything by or about F. Scott Fitzgerald except for this soon-to-be catastrophe.
I loved the Turner exhibit at the MET a little while back but really loved the Byron exhibit at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery back in 2003.
And speaking of Scotland; I love Scotland! Love the people, love the accent, love the music. Love the Belle and Sebastian.
Following on from last week’s short stint of dates around the UK, Esben and the Witch will return next year with live shows starting the same day as the release of their debut album, Violet Cries, on January 31st. The band’s most recent UK shows were hailed as “strangely beautiful… a masterclass in sustaining an audiences attention” (Spoonfed) and at least one writer’s “gig of the year” (High Voltage).
You can see the band playing at the following UK dates:
31st - The Louisiana, Bristol (tickets)
1st - Pavilion Theatre, Brighton (tickets)
3rd - Other Rooms, Newcastle (tickets)
4th - Sneaky Pete's, Edinburgh (tickets)
5th - Rescue Rooms, Nottingham (tickets)
7th - The Harley, Sheffield (tickets)
8th - Hare & Hounds, Birmingham (tickets)
9th - XOYO, London (tickets)
before they head overseas the take in several other European countries:
11th - Botanique/Rotonde, Brussels, Belgium (tickets)
12th - Paradiso, Amsterdam, Netherlands (tickets)
13th - Gebäude, Cologne, Germany (tickets)
14th - Molotow, Hamburg, Germany (tickets)
16th - Loppen, Copenhagen, Denmark (tickets)
17th - Comet, Berlin, Germany (tickets)
19th - Route Du Rock Festival, Saint Malo, France (details)
21st - Point Ephemere, Paris, France (tickets)
The band have also now shared the track-listing for Violet Cries, the previously released EP track ‘Marching Song’ and free download ‘Warpath’ feature, along with a re-working of ‘Eumenidies’, an early track taken from their very first ’33′ EP.
2. Marching Song
3. Marine Fields Glow
4. Light Streams
5. Hexagons IV
This is unfortunate, but as eMusic has brought more major labels into the fold, they have changed the terms on which they deal with labels, some of which we have found impossible to accept, in our own interests, those of our artists, and ultimately those of their fans.
We're grateful for the support Matador has received from eMusic in the past.
Matador's catalog will continue to be available via many other great sites and stores. We encourage you to visit them.
I was nervous to write about love. I tweeted for advice, skyped my best friend back home, and asked around the office if anyone would switch blog days with me to give myself more time. Unfortunately neither twitter or my best friend had any helpful suggestions, and no one in the office was willing to make the switch. For inspiration, I started listening to And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out by Yo La Tengo. Is that cheesy? Does it get more romantic than "You Can Have It All"? I can't think of a more romantic song, but please feel free to comment if you disagree - I could be convinced!
Almost four months ago (who's counting?!) I moved to New York from Sydney, Australia. I moved because I was in love - with the city, with a boy, and with the idea of working for a company I had always admired (what'up Matador!) Things with the boy didn't work out and this city can be unforgiving at times, and while I don't regret my decision to move across the world, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about the people I love and the places I love that I left behind when I boarded the Qantas 747.
When I think about what I love, I think of home:
Above is a photograph my mum sent me yesterday of her and my dad's backyard. The Jacaranda tree in their garden is dropping purple flowers over the grass, which is the first indication that Summer is on the way. There is nothing I love more than sitting in their garden in the sunshine drinking coffee while we listen to music and talk about the world. I am going home to Australia over the Christmas break and plan to do little else aside from sit in that garden for the ten days I am home! My dad and I will drink wine and listen to records, my brother will come around to chill, my mum and I will spend hours cooking and talking, and I can't fucking wait!
This second photograph comes from best friend, Georgia. She sent this to me last weekend after an early morning swim at Bondi Beach. She and I lived together in Sydney, and we would often wake up on a weekend and grab towels and the newspapers and our housemates and our hangovers and catch the bus to the Beach (unless a friend with a car was coming with - those were the best days!) We'd stay there for hours - talking, swimming. reading, going on coffee runs. Visitors came and went and we just hung out. Some of my most loved and cherished memories are of those days.
While New York is my home, Sydney will always be where my heart is.
As you probably already know, Shearwater is on tour. If you're in Chicago, not only should you check out their show tonight at Lincoln Hall, you should get a taste of what to expect by tuning in to WLUW at 4:00PM CST for a live session with Jonathan Meiburg and company. Listen in at 88.7FM.
In addition to tonight's show in Chicago, there are a few more dates remaining on Shearwater's November jaunt across these United States, so catch them if you can.
Tue Nov 16, 2010 – Chicago IL – Lincoln Hall
Wed Nov 17, 2010 – South Bend IN - Subkirke
Thu Nov 18, 2010 – St. Louis MO – Duck Room
Fri Nov 19, 2010 – Lawrence KS – Jackpot Saloon
Sat Nov 20, 2010 – Norman OK – The Opolis
Damian Jurado supports on all dates.
I spent a good portion of my weekend wondering what I was ever going to post on this. My first inkling was to be funny.
"Make 'em laugh," I thought. "Or at least try."
But then I decided to go to the Giants-Cowboys game and after that embarrassment was in no mood for laughs (or work of any sort for that matter) so I pulled this, an excerpt from something I wrote a very, very long time ago. Dig.
“A Brief Musing On The Effects Of Perceived Love”
It is the oft-referenced darkness before dawn. The blackest part of night when sight becomes blurred due to a harrowing cocktail of lack of sleep, early-morning fog and concealing 4 a.m. shadows. This is the line that is walked only when one dares, but with enough confidence to know that they will not fall to either side. They know you will see their face, but you will have no idea what they look like. They become a sharp-edged silhouette in the rising sun, the waning moon, reminiscent of silent-film villains... boney, hunched, frail, yet daunting and horrible. It is at this moment, along this line, that we pass crevasses created by adjoining buildings a bit faster. We stay close to the walls as to not be tossed into the revealing light. We clasp our hands tight around something, anything... a belt, a purse, a waist and -- if you're lucky -- a lover.
It is the instant before your lips touch hers for the first time. You've already come down this darkened road that you have never traveled before. You don't know the buildings around you. You don't recognize the ground beneath your feet. You can't run home. It is much further now than it has ever been.
But you are thrust from the wall and you can no longer clutch your belt or your purse or your waist. You are shoved into this new light that the minutes-old sun has splashed upon the still-sleeping world. You feel like you can already recount this instant over and over, in your mind you are already telling this story to others, in great detail, how you grabbed her by the waist, the arms, the cheek and pulled her back into the darkness for one more second. How the sun chased that darkness away and how you knew, if only for an instant, that that instant, though it would soon be gone, could last forever.
She would describe her every thought to you with the edges of her lips, pressed so slightly against yours. And then the sun would wash upon both of your feet, thighs, waists, chests, arms, hands, faces and it would sweep you away into a world that would actually exist.
As you walk away, swaying drunkenly across that formerly terrifying line, you look back, straight into the eyes of that which made you tremble most, that which you found paralyzingly sexy, and you would say to it:
"Fuck you. Fuck you, look at me now. Look at how I am ok."
And into the sunrise, a Lover's cowboy, you would walk, heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe, letting the worn leather on the bottoms of your boots spell it out for everyone to hear, "I'm ok. It's gonna take a lot more than that to get me down, motherfuckers."