Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin
The time when
We counted every black car passing
Your house beneath the hill
And up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range,
A piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention
But
Please, remember me
Fondly
I heard from someone you’re still pretty
And then
They went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like ‘We’ll meet again’
And ‘Fuck the man’
And ‘Tell my mother not to worry’
And angels with their gray
Handshakes
Were always done in such a hurry
And
Please, remember me
At Halloween
Making fools of all the neighbors
Our faces painted white
By midnight
We’d forgotten one another
And when the morning came
I was ashamed
Only now it seems so silly
That season left the world
And then returned
And now you’re lit up by the city
So
Please, remember me
Mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower call
Then pass us by
But much too high
To see the empty road at happy hour
Leave and resonate
Just like the gates
Around the holy kingdom
With words like ‘Lost and Found’ and ‘Don’t Look Down’
And ‘Someone Save Temptation’
And
Please, remember me
As in the dream
We had as rug-burned babies
Among the fallen trees
And fast asleep
Aside the lions and the ladies
That called you what you like
And even might
Give a gift for your behavior
A fleeting chance to see
A trapeze
Swing as high as any savior
But
Please, remember me
My misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain
And chasing trains
The colored birds above there running
In circles round the well
And where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter’s
So bright with cinder gray
And spray paint
‘Who the hell can see forever?’
And
Please, remember me
Seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees
You turn from me
And said ‘The trapeze act was wonderful
But never meant to last’
The clown that passed
Saw me just come up with anger
When it filled with circus dogs
The parking lot
Had an element of danger
So
Please, remember me
Finally
And all my uphill clawing
My dear
But if i make
The pearly gates
Do my best to make a drawing
Of G-d and Lucifer
A boy and girl
An angel kissin on a sinner
A monkey and a man
A marching band
All around the frightened trapeze swingers
May 2010
10 posts
“Northwestern Girls” Say Hi
The last two nights, I’ve been up way later than I should’ve been. Something about the summertime makes me want to stay up late. Every time I come home, I feel like I want to experience everything again. Go to the same places, drive the same roads, listen to the same music. Being at home in the summer, gives me such intense “revertigo.”
That’s only a part of the appeal of “Northwestern Girls.” My friend, Betty, put it on a mix for me the summer after graduating (which includes the song after which this blog is named), and seriously, almost every song on that mix makes me think of that summer two years ago whenever I hear it. I feel like I felt invincible or something. That’s pretty cliche, but I think that’s how it was. So when I hear those songs, even now, I feel that same feeling, and I love it.
It’s just interesting how we do this to ourselves: put ourselves into the same situations involving the same senses and we go back to a time we remember. But at the same time, we’re constantly creating new moments, we will one day revert back to. It’s a comfortable cycle that isn’t always recognized.
Last night, I was making a summer mix for no particular reason. Maybe to listen to while driving or something. And, “Northwestern Girls” made the list. Anyway, while listening, I must’ve heard it at least 5 or 6 times tonight, and each time the “revertigo” set in, and it did really make me feel great, almost invincible. Too invincible, because then I sprained my ankle being a lame-ass on a skateboard.
But still, the song takes me back to a time where I wasn’t unable to walk, so for now, I’m listening to that shit all night.
“Bad Diary Days” Pedro the Lion
Oh Davy Bazan, you’ve done a number on me.
I feel like David and I have a connection as to the way we write songs, not that I have any right to place mine at his level. If this is the case, he takes a little minuscule detail, blows it way out of proportion, and writes his lyrics based on what is more or less a hypothetical exaggeration.
Or maybe my life just lacks the intense level of emotion-stirring relationships to other people (and God) in Bazan’s. Probably, actually.
“Bad Diary Days” is an accurate example. The lyrics are a very human thought-process that look into dealing with a partner’s infidelity. It’s like a timeline of examples of weird things that just happen to make Bazan suspicious, but he is too unsure of himself to start a confrontation. Then when he eventually does, the truth comes out.
If I were writing this song, I feel like it would be based on those few weird things that happen, and that’s it. My jealous, over-creative mind would take care of the rest.
So if this is Bazan’s thought-process, then he has hit me good. And it wouldn’t be the first time. If this is really what he was thinking, then he has really captured what is very much a common human thing: to fantasize about the worst possible situation with a sick feeling deep in your stomach and push it too far.
I suppose it’s better than the opposite of feeling nothing at all.
“The Comeback” - Shout Out Louds
The review staff at Pitchfork is brilliant for a lot of reasons. The writing is spot on and meaningful. Yet I find myself disagreeing with them sort of often. While they can sure write beautifully and drive home whatever point they like, often times it comes off a little… pretentiously asshole-ish. They seem to boil whatever artist they’re already predisposed against down to its influences and say that they’re just riding that boat… or wave… or train. And that’s sometimes legitimate. However, it’s a bit unfair.
What comes to mind is the review of Shout Out Louds’ “Howl Howl Gaff Gaff.” Chris Ott, the reviewer, said the album was brilliant and joyful until he heard the song “Shut Your Eyes,” called it perjury of The Strokes’ “The Modern Age,” and then examined the band’s influences, and wrote Shout Out Louds off as being out of reach of each of them. Which is sad for two reasons: 1, “Shut Your Eyes” sounds nothing like “The Modern Age” and 2, after one ounce of influence the record’s out the window.
Modern music is finding it harder and harder to become free of any influence from the previous five decades, but is it such a bad thing? I don’t think so. I think some of the best music has come from one half old ideas, one half new interpretations. That’s why the cycle of repetition works.
Shout Out Louds, I think, definitely realize this, and embody it in “The Comeback.” Sure, it has unoriginal ideas and sure, it’s in 4/4 time, but it’s great to listen to. It’s enjoyable. It’s catchy. ”Catchiness” doesn’t have to mean “bullshit.” For me, and hopefully others, it’s doesn’t. It means that this is a band that likes to sing and be sung to, so they write songs that make it possible, and they love doing it.
When we divide ourselves from influence entirely, nothing is left.
