darklands

Thank God for Jesus and Mary [Chain].

wanderlust

"The person susceptible to 'wanderlust' is not so much addicted to movement as committed to transformation." - Pico Iyer

(trainspotting)

(agatha a. nitecka)

modern love

My favorite love songs are the ones that don't waste time - simple, unrefined and (most importantly) awkwardly ingenuous. In other words, the ones that don't really sound like love songs. They're the ones that might make you cringe a little not because their quixotic sap will give you a toothache, but because their bumbling honesty will induce some parasympathetic sweaty palms - or at the very least a vicarious coy-bitten-lip kinda thing. They're the ones that make you question whether you're falling in love with the song, the person behind it, or the feelings the person behind it is so bravely sharing. Here's a very small sampling of my favorites; prepare to swoon.

Cheap Girls - "Her and Cigarettes"

"And we took the long way so we could have another."

Pinhead Gunpowder - "Beastly Bit"

What could be more honest than crust-punk-turned-acoustic love? Also, the end features the best appropriation/perversion of a "Brown Eyed Girl" sample ever. (P.S. - if that voice sounds familiar, it's because it is. PHGB is/was one of Billie Joe Armstrong's many, many side projects.)

Built to Spill - "Distopian Dream Girl"

I think I love this song mostly because Doug Martsch's voice sounds like a Midwestern teenager who just woke up from a nap. I'm also not entirely sure whether this is a love song, or rather the random musings of a Midwestern teenager who just woke up from a nap. Either one works for me.

Paul Baribeau - "Blue Eyes"

Definitively, one of the loveliest songs I have ever heard. Maybe the loveliest. Just goes to show that folk punks do it better.

7 Seconds - "Trust"

Proving that hardcore straight-edgers fall in love as hard as they mosh. An unsurprisingly straightforward, unapologetically honest love song that you can nevertheless violently run around in a circle pit to. But also, it's so sweet!

wisdom, pt. 2

exposure

I don't think it's the camera that can steal a soul - it's what the camera creates that does it. It's those eyes that see through the camera, through the rips of the paper or the pixels of the screen, that fear not for their own souls, but for your witless soul; it's those eyes that belie the surreality of the print, that cheat the simulacrum, that vindicate themselves while exposing your own self, your own fears, your own soul. 

But those creations are also, often, supremely beautiful. 

heretics anonymous

Quick post before I head back to the 12th century. (Have you ever heard of Abelard and Heloise? They're like a real-life Romeo and Juliet, except that Abelard is an anti-Semitic jerk, a pontificating, cradle-robbing monk, and Heloise is a hyperbolic, overwrought caricature of wronged-female emotionality. But they also had sex in the nunnery's refectory, so they win major badass points.)

Anyway, for the past week I've been thoroughly embedded in a nearly-900-year-old story in which every other sentence cites, and proceeds to sermonize upon, another obscure biblical allusion or frenzied exaltation of the Lord, which is totally fine if you are a medieval monk or nun but gets really old if you are an agnostic Jew circa 2012.

So this is what I turn to in times of stress: the hypnotic, dirty-pretty acoustic ramblings of a metal-headed nouveau hippie. His name is Kurt Vile, and this is his song "I Know I Got Religion," which has long been a favorite of mine. At this point it's become abundantly clear that I got religion, too; I'm just not sure if I want it. I'll take the song instead.

P.S. Here's a live performance of the song, just because you need to see his hair to believe it. And also because it's a really good live performance.

calvinism