i flirted with you all my life- vic chesnutt

so sad.

teenage fanclub-what you do to me

tho the point is moot....

townes van zandt- if i needed you

'if i needed you, would you come to me? would you come to me, to ease my pain? if you needed me, i would come to you, i would swim the seas for to ease your pain.'

that may be the most beautiful thing ever written.

the sky is sometimes blue, sometimes clouded. the ground is often hard. love is somewhere in the mix. blah.

elvis costello- the next time round

'sometimes i name and number all the things you gave to me
your elastic love, this velvet lined purgatory
you used to take the breath out of me
now i think you'll be the death of me'.

nobody says it better than costello.

babyshambles- loyalty song

pete dohety is kinda like shane macgowan in that they are both renegades with a strong moral code. i respect that. nobody has any loyalty these days, so it's ok to fuck each other over. pre-emptive strikes! it's the legacy of bush, inserted into our private lives. every man(wo) for themselves. and, like the u.s., we end up fucked. on the road to fuck knows where.

mercury rev- in a funny way

they're the flaming lips for the more adventurous!!

flaming lips- i can be a frog

the new album is mind expanding.

and this is the best video i've ever seen.

michael gira- god damn the sun

if you don't know, or don't like, michael gira or the swans you're an asshole. and you have no taste or sense of what real art is. fuck you. i hope you die.

bob dylan- don't think twice, it's alright

i ain't sayin' you treated me unkind
you coulda done better but i don't mind
you just kinda wasted my precious time
but don't think twice, it's alright

elvis costello- watch your step

'back slapping drinkers cheer the heavyweight brawl
so punch drunk they don't understand at all'

i've always loved that line. it describes a certain type of guy we all know. remind you of anyone?

glen tilbrook- up the junction

alone here in the kitchen, i feel there's something missing.

that's what it feels like when you lose everything.

lou barlow- goodnight unknown (a review in real time)

the sky never brightens, but the sky never falls. it just hovers. it's not of this world, y'know? it's a container. it protects us from whatever the fuck it is that is 'out there'.
there is a god, i believe. and he's just grown bored with us. wouldn't you?
i am obsessed right now. with nothing in particular. just an abstract idea of something i thought might be love. but that is harder to believe in then god. i have no proof that god doesn't exist. but love? well. i'm an empirical kinda guy.

lou barlow is back. i'm listening to his new album while i ramble on. i believe music can save me. i can count on it. which is alot more than i can say for...for....ugh, i don't wanna keep doing this.

i'm not alone often. but when i am it's glorious! i am on my bed now, just listening and dreaming. it's heavenly. i recently read a book by chuck klosterman. there is a line in it that says something like, 'i don't see the difference between romance and solitude'. that really struck me. cuz i've always thought i was a romantic. but i think i might just be a misery junkie. and, y'know, junkies seek out other junkies.

but that line got me thinking. i only feel truly peaceful when i'm alone with my music. and if i have to be brutally honest, it may be the only time i feel true happiness. without any underlying neurosis. just purely, honestly happy.

i spent the last year with someone i really adored. just an amazing, but incredibly complicated woman. and i never really relaxed with her, y'know? cuz i knew it was temporary and i wasn't the person she really wanted to be with. and that's ok. you can't help how you feel. but i had moments of incredible excitement with her, and i love her dearly. BUT, i had a moment at work the other day. i was cooking some bullshit that comes out of a plastic bag. 'crimson and clover' came on. tommy james version. which is one of my favorite song. i went to the bathroom so i could just listen to it. and for 2 minutes i was gone. i strummed along on my imaginary gibson. i'm sure i was smiling. it was just perfect. and i felt so fucking happy. happier than any person has ever made me. i don't mean that as a dig. it's just the only thing that works. am i sick? or is this ok? romance and solitude, y'know. i felt less alone in that bathroom than i've felt in years.

so yeah, this barlow album is really good. i mean it's no 'sebadoh 3' and theres no 'truly great thing' ( which,for you couples in love, (sorry about that, i weep for your future) is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written (psssssst...it won't last...)) but it's really solid. you should buy it. it's better than coldplay or whatever the fuck you idiots listen to.

neil young- helpless

my mood today.

wilco- via chicago

sometimes it's ok. strings reverberate. the trees sway in perfect rhythm with my heart.
this is a slightly sad feeling, but i feel comfortable here. it's close to home. these swaying trees, these whining strings, this unnamed sadness.
but...
then things explode.
my eyes pop, and my pulse quickens.
i can control this. i am master of my emotions.
for a time i am home again.
i am a traveler. i have my backpack ready. today is portland. tomorow may be louisville, or big sur, or toronto, or philidelphia, or raleigh.
the hub will be chicago.
my eyes will explode along the way, i'm sure. it is a constant battle.
but it will ease as i get farther away. like descending from a mountain.
and the farther i get away from home,
the closer i will be to it.

danielson

(in my best david byrne preacher voice) behold the son of daniel! his heavenly children! some worship beauty, not understanding it's meaning. beauty is the reminder of death! time belongs to the devil. we are consumed with time. we watch the clock, we wait for something to happen. we watch beauty age and fade and turn into something unspeakably ugly. devil out!! the son of daniel holds you in his hands. even you! you junkies and flunkies! you salivators over dead squirrels bloated sun baked corpses! you one-eyed visionaries! you eaters of lilacs! you perusers of holy books! you simple, simple creatures. these books are from the devil. no truth is written. truth is observed, heard, for a moment, then drifts, scent like, into the vents. and you remember the smell, faintly, it lingers on your clothes, like the cigs you smoke. one...after...another.
repent. please, children, repent. kneel before danielson. than stand beside them. for they are not religion. they are love. and there is an ocean of tears between these things.
http://danielson.info/site/

ramones- loudmouth

'we're the ramones. and you're a loudmouth, baby. you better shut it up'- ramones.



there has never been a better band. i could go on, but... i mean...watch this. tell me. who's better? fuck you. no, they're not. go the fuck back to sleep.

there is a ship- peter, paul, and mary

r.i.p.

a fool will waste his life, god rest his guts

ed. note: please listen while you read. it works better that way.


you could go in the front way or the back way. if you were lucky you got in the back way. it was dark, and there was a piano right by the stairs that led to the bar. i seranaded many a lady on that piano, tho ther was only a real lady there once. and i never bedded her. but i love her still. true story. 2nd girl i ever kissed and still the best. front porch of kathy's house, i believe. i remember these things. they are important. it was a magical kiss, cuz it was a long time coming. it was mostly cuz of exclusion, true. but aren't most kisses? aren't you with the person your'e with cuz they're the last option? they were the best of the worst? jeez, listen to me. i'm so jaded. am i old enough to be so jaded? fuck, yes, i am.

but the back door. you had to knock. cuz, y'know, this was before the age of cell phones. so, no, not knock. pound! and usually there was somebody upstairs smoking. or trying to get a private moment with a....well...y'know...special for the moment person. so, you'd pound, hopefully for a minute and they'd open the door and it would swing open and your already half drunk night would begin for real!! because you had full run of the keg! and there were no adults! cuz you were adults. legally. for real. tho' not old enough to drink. hee hee hee.

i broke my hand there once. punched the big fucking oak door. rightfully so. cuz of a girl named erin. funny. i have a sister in law named erin. but she wasn't even the girl i was in love with!! it was ****. 'sweet lou', as she was known. and, let it be known, i have loved other girls since. slept with some. married one. but have i ever felt anything so intensely? probly not. but i was young. so young. and so drunk.

i have loved alchohol for many years. in many ways it has been my most succesful relationship. i keep going back to it. it never judges. never regects. it always welcomes me back after i have strayed.

and yet...

and yet...

our relationship is frowned upon.

so i abstain.

for small periods of time.

but you should know, honey. and you should know, friends. that i'm coming back for you. cuz you're the one for me, baby.

and none of these motherfuckers can ever convince me of anything else.

shane macgowan- that woman's got me drinking

bob dylan-idiot wind