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The Battle of Hampton Roads
I’m not a young man, but if I was, I’d be a desperate young man. It isn’t pretty, but it’s beautiful.
Andrew Jackson Jihad covering The Mountain Goats? And it’s “Going to Georgia”? Yes, please and thank you.
I forgot this was a thing that existed and I almost started sobbing when I hit play.
Immeasurable texture, like fingering embroidery, a dimensional knit of hair, a braid of small actions. Feel it and your body relaxes to the point where you accept a yawn and it signifies no future. Bill Evans is stopping time, or is mythologizing it, making it deliberate. Time as perceived in a lowering crystal of memory. When viewed from a distance a tapestry blends purely into the intended image. Elaborations are lost, drift modestly away. This is Evans’ first record with bassist Chuck Israels. He replaces Scott LaFaro, who died in a car crash and whose membranous fluttering is just newly absent, a sudden, uncanny space in Evans’ music. Israels settles, anchors, keeps the whole affair from evaporating thoughtlessly.
A song concerned with the logical & alternative-explanation-less possibility of “being in like”: wherein C, eventual (but not sequential) fulfillment of B, maintains a relation to B that cannot be accounted for by either (1) B as C’s direct causal factor, or (2) C and B sharing a common causal ancestor, A. The question’s romance, as it goes, resides in its refusal to ask crooked— a sort of pre-love gone post-modern by way of indie rock’s dream. “I want you in my life”: the thinking lyric’s “Don’t die.” Dumb, perfect, pop’s story retold: the proposition that all answers can be stored in worse answers, complete.
Felt properly doomed hearing this for the first time at music hall last week.
Iron & Wine, “Upward Over The Mountain.” In my mind this song isn’t far removed from Neil Young’s title track from “Harvest,” and indeed UOTM does have the line that titles the album “And The Creek Drank The Cradle.” There’s something about the old walking blues riff with the repetitive refrains of Sam Beam’s singing about a man talking to his mother, and the ruminations on living in an isolated setting when the world is out there and pulling at you to leave your duties at home and go see it.
| Oneohtrix Point Never |
ignore the frame rate; don’t even watch the video if it bothers you. just listen. all-around virtuoso stuff.
I LOVE Elliott Smith and whenever Needle in the Hay comes on I have to sing along like this.
the way it was meant to be song
My abs hurt from the gym, and I laughed so hard at this I had to clutch my abdomen to soothe the pain.
Alone in a room, clapping.