Settling in. At long last. Sort of. Maybe I’m just getting used to doing everything last minute again. I seem to have a lot of time when I don’t need it and never enough when I do. I waste so much of my day in waiting around for things to start you would almost think it was some sort of profound metaphor for my life…or something.
Musically I’ve been dull. My life’s playlist has gone something like this for the past two months with slight variation:
1.) New Romance by Pretty Girls Make Graves
It’s a good piece of rock-pop-synth but lyrically dull to the point of distraction. Its also been out for ages and the band has broken up. This in and of itself means nothing but I want something to listen to that will either let me go to a concert or at least have hope of hearing songs at said concert.
2.) The Jam – Best Of Compilation
I love the Jam, their mod, British, from the early eighties and they play great punky rock-pop but there is something in the later compositions that reminds me that everyone eventually gets lazy and tired and that trying to break out of that in one fell swoop never fucking works. Just listen to “Going Underground” side by side with “Tales Of The Riverbank.”
3.) JR Ewing – Maelstrom
They were Swedish hardcore band and are now some sort of AFI like pop group. This is not why I dislike them, on the contrary, that could entice me to like them even more. No, the reason that Maelstrom seems bereft to me these days is the track called Pitch Black Blonde. It’s the best on the album, by far I think. Mike and I have agreed that it goes up there with Party of Helicopters’ “Brutal Enigma.” The song’s crescendo is so close to sublime that its maddening. You can taste the sonic release that might occur in that build up. The anticipation is almost sexual. But when the notes grow too big to contain and the song seems to give you the pay off to all that build up it just doesn’t satisfy.
Movies have also been somewhat drear of late. Across the Universe was entertaining but hacky in too many places to make it great or even all the way good. You have the most (socially) tumultuous decade in the century as your subject matter and the Beatles for your soundtrack and you tell a simple, albeit sweet, love story? Bobby did better, which I also saw not too long ago. It was good but disjointed. I can’t think of any other way to tell that kind of narrative but it seemed like Emilio Estevez was trying to keep too many balls in the air and ended up producing a tone that I liked quite a lot but hollow characters. Hot Fuzz was funny. The Searchers was depressing and good. I can’t wait for Darjeeling Limited to come out. Wes Andersen better come through. That movie alone could probably cure this mood. And I’m still waiting for Control. That’s it for movies.
Socially: Elizabeth’s birthday was fun, and six flags was great once I opened my eyes on the roller coasters. I do not, as many could imagine, scream like a little girl. Its more of a dignified grimace and a look of abject horror that I alternate in affecting. I’ve hung out with Nando some, which has been good. I worked on a weekend for the first time in a log time. I think that’s about it.
School is school and work is work. I don’t know why I’m feeling so existentially adrift but I am. Not all the time. Just in the four and a half hour between Law class and Medieval History when I should be doing something productive but never do.
Alright that’s enough. Go back to your lives.
PS I almost forgot, in music there has been one miracle: Mike and I found a copy of the live recording of Indian Summer that’s so impossible to find. The quality is shit but the experience is rather comforting. Indian Summer isn’t really the Band to get you out of a funk though…