Wednesday, September 10, 2008

so this is what the volume knob's for

I am in love with the Mountain Goats so hard. John Darnielle? asdflkjla;kds AMAZING. Everything about his music is perfect....he's so freaking....wonderful. I'm horrible at describing stuff like this....can't find the words to describle my thoughts. I just know that his music makes me happy. In a horribly melancholy way. His lyrics are beautiful....all literary and whatnot. Haha wow, I am having a HARD time explaining. The words coupled with the music are absolutely ridiculously perfect. So amazing. Amazing, perfect, wonderful, beautiful. That is all.

Ordered 4 albums from Amazon a few days ago (Full Force Galesburg, Sweden, All Hail West Texas, The Coroner's Gambit). Also got the books Paper Towns and An Abundance of Katherines by the inimitable John Green who also adores the Mountain Goats, in all probability and likelihood and such more than I do. Definitely more than I do. I heard about them from him. And the foreword (I think) of Paper Towns contains a Mountain Goats lyric: "People say friends don't destroy one another / What do they know about friends?"

There are two songs in particular I've become obsessed with - "Dance Music" and "Palmcorder Yajna." The first is from the album The Sunset Tree which is a narrative, even kinda has a story arc, of Darinelle's childhood and his abusive father. And everything about this song...I feel such a connection with his emotions and....stuff. Blah. Can't explain.
alright I'm on johnson avenue in san luis obispo
and I'm five years old or six maybe.
and indications there's something wrong with our new house
trip down the wire twice daily
I'm in the living room watching the watergate hearings
while my step father yells at my mother.
launches a glass across the room, straight at her head
and I dash upstairs to take cover.
lean in close to my little record player on the floor.
so this is what the volume knobs for.

I listen to dance music.
dance music.

ok so look I'm seventeen years old,
and you're the last best thing I've got going.
but then the special secret sickness starts to eat through you.
what am I supposed to do?
no way of knowing,
so I follow you down your twisting alleyways,
find a few cul de sacs of my own.
there's only one place where this road ever ends up.
and I don't want to die alone.
let me down, let me down, let me down gently.
when the police come to get me

I'm listening to dance music.
dance music.
And then the other song, "Palmcorder Yajna" is just lovely. Even though it's about methamphetamines and also possibly death.
Holt Boulevard
Between Gary and White
Hooked up with some friends at the Travelodge
Set ourselves up for the night

Carpenter ants in the dresser
Flies in the screen
It will be too late by the time we learn
What these cryptic symbols mean

And I dreamt of a house
Haunted by all you tweakers with your hands out
And the headstones climbed up the hills
And the headstones climbed up the hills

Send somebody out for soda
Comb through the carpet for clues
Reflective tape on our sweatpants
Big holes in our shoes
Every couple minutes someone says he can't stand it any more
Laugh lines on our faces
Scale maps of the ocean floor

And I dreamt of a camera
Pointing out from inside the televsion
And the aperture yawning and blinking
And the headstones climbed up the hills

If anybody comes to see me
Tell 'em they just missed me by a minute
If anybody comes in to our room while we're asleep
I hope they incinerate everybody in it

And I dreamt of a factory
Where they manufactured what I needed
Using shiny new machines
And the headstones climbed up the hills

No comments:

Post a Comment

say a thing say something say it say it right now