midnight reminiscing
Apr. 5th, 2009 12:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightlywoven So on Friday night, it had been a very long week. 12 days long. And now it was nearly midnight and I had a 50 mile drive home. There was only one way to stay awake - singing.
Ihave found that singing loud and lustily is not compatible with micro-napping at the wheel. So when I think that my eyelids might become heavy after 30 miles of country road/motorway, I go for a soundtrack. Friday night I chose 'Recovering the Satellites' by Counting Crows.
Cast your minds back, dear readers, to 1998. For most of us, this was a year or two before the burning of discs was widespread. Sharing music meant making tapes. I was in my final year of high school. It was not a great year. A better year perhaps than the few before it (because now I had a bunch of friends from outside my school, who liked me as I was, and didn't consider academic achievement to be some kind of crippling social disease), but I was not a happy girl for much of the time. Nor did I have much spare cash. So I had only a few CDs, and this was one of them. I played it OB-SESS-IVE-LY. High rotation. All the time.
This was the first music that I really expressed some of the nameless sorrow and frustration I felt in those days. That put words to it. That put angry chords and sad melodies to it. That was really fucking cool. It became the soundtrack to my year. I wrote the lyrics down in odd places, as if to prove to myself their existence. And 11 years later I still love it.
Some gems and some links:
"The smell of hospitals in winter,
And the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters
but no pearls
And all at once you look across a crowded room
And see the way that light attaches
To a girl"
"Marjorie's wingspan's all feathers and coke cans and
TV dinners, and letters she won't send, and
Every race night is shot through with sunlight
Tryin' to hit the big one, one last time tonight
For
Drunken fathers
and
Stupid mothers
and
Boys who can't tell one girl from another"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwxlokJuz90&feature=channel_page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWKlOOhG2sA&feature=channel_page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEP8iCkhHS8&feature=channel_page
Ihave found that singing loud and lustily is not compatible with micro-napping at the wheel. So when I think that my eyelids might become heavy after 30 miles of country road/motorway, I go for a soundtrack. Friday night I chose 'Recovering the Satellites' by Counting Crows.
Cast your minds back, dear readers, to 1998. For most of us, this was a year or two before the burning of discs was widespread. Sharing music meant making tapes. I was in my final year of high school. It was not a great year. A better year perhaps than the few before it (because now I had a bunch of friends from outside my school, who liked me as I was, and didn't consider academic achievement to be some kind of crippling social disease), but I was not a happy girl for much of the time. Nor did I have much spare cash. So I had only a few CDs, and this was one of them. I played it OB-SESS-IVE-LY. High rotation. All the time.
This was the first music that I really expressed some of the nameless sorrow and frustration I felt in those days. That put words to it. That put angry chords and sad melodies to it. That was really fucking cool. It became the soundtrack to my year. I wrote the lyrics down in odd places, as if to prove to myself their existence. And 11 years later I still love it.
Some gems and some links:
"The smell of hospitals in winter,
And the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters
but no pearls
And all at once you look across a crowded room
And see the way that light attaches
To a girl"
"Marjorie's wingspan's all feathers and coke cans and
TV dinners, and letters she won't send, and
Every race night is shot through with sunlight
Tryin' to hit the big one, one last time tonight
For
Drunken fathers
and
Stupid mothers
and
Boys who can't tell one girl from another"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwxlokJuz90&feature=channel_page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWKlOOhG2sA&feature=channel_page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEP8iCkhHS8&feature=channel_page
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no subject
Date: 2009-04-05 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-05 09:29 pm (UTC)Having said that, I remember listening to 'raining in Baltimore' while I was in hospital after a car accident, and feeling like it was spelling out what had happened to me.
And Anna Begins is just perfect. (Y'know, in a fucked up and miserable way)