A personal favorite. This has been on my iPod for ages. Don’t even remember how I heard this. In any case, thanks Lily Allen for a wonderful cover.
ze infamous bouncer from gallery/blind barber. i’ve often wondered about club personnel on their off days.
Man with eye patch on Broadway.
May was an appropriately paced month for once. Cheers to the coming summer months and that they too feel just as deliberate and well-timed.
I love 80s-revivalist indie music. Brings me closer to that New Wave sound I would have loved to live in.
Intro to ‘Untitled Short Story, Part III’
There is a song by Feist that has been sitting with me for a prolonged period of time now. The title say it’s an “UnMix.” A reversal of the much more common remix, the song is by logic a deconstruction of its former self—though why they don’t just call it an acoustic or stripped version is beyond me. Anyways, the song is “Inside+Out.” An undone treatment by Apostle of Hustle
It’s a haunting song. Those introductory, preparatory guitar strums contain a sad emptiness to them, as if the musician had no other purpose than to play. Imagine the guitarist sitting in a shadow, releasing a listless melody for no enjoyment or pleasure but to accompany an equally languid Feist. She sings with such disappointment and pain. The lyrics may sound desperate (“it’s enough to leave me crying in the rain/love you forever but you’re driving me insane”), but her voice lacks the crazed passion that immediately happens after a breakup. Rather, she’s in pieces and has no motivation to do anything about it, and would rather just speak her swan song.
What gets me about the song, however, is an awareness of what an intense love can feel like. Those sweet, tender, aw moments in happy songs are rarely seen here, and is made up for in moments of sickening devotion. Images of a girl obsessed reoccur in the chorus. She says she’s basically the only one that can ever be—the end all be all, if you will. Every ounce of her being has been regurgitated and surrendered over. If you do a cold reading of the lyrics—like “you’re the reason for my laughter and my sorrow/Blow the candle I will burn again tomorrow” and the whole repetitive “inside and out” bit at the end—it could look like the mad scribblings of a stalker. But, Feist’s defeatist tone deadens the blow and makes it just a very very sad song. If the intention lyrically was to show a furious, fighting sort of romance, all I hear is the hollowness, the depression, the end.
I ran, I ordered in pho, and I applied to one job for the hell of it.
Woo. Productive. For once.
The estranged father of Isamu Noguchi—Yonejirō Noguchi—is definitely my desktop background right now.
I lack aggression at the moment. I’ve become accustomed to settling and complacency. It’s an awful feeling to know that you aren’t reaching the potential that you know you have and you have accessed at some time or another. I know that things don’t have to be so quotidian and plain and can be a whole lot better or, at the least, thrilling. I suppose I really should just try harder.
I need a pet to give me existential warnings and life advice.
(Source: blessrule34, via worry-about-the-wind)
“In many ways, they’ll miss the good old days
Someday, someday
Yeah, it hurts to say, but I want you to stay
Sometimes, sometimes
…
I’m working so I won’t have to try so hard”
The Strokes are gewd shizz.
