hello autumn

Another weekend slips away, and summer sighs its last. It's a cool Sunday eve, and lethergy is working on me. Tonight i feel like feetgazing.



The Shocking Pinks make music so perfect to me sometimes. It's messy and loose, minimal and lo-fi, swimming in melody and hooks that too much production would kill its raw perfection, the very thing that makes these ache with longing so much. These could play on repeat in Lost In Translation and i'd be happy.







Beach House have come on since their first album. I liked that a lot, but i love this. This is another melodic overload, the breathy hhhaaas and warbling guitar are just perfect.




The Radio Dept. have been a favourite of mine since i lived in Vancouver. This is a song that i played over and over on the skytrain watching people, windows, signs, houses, cars, parks, and skyline slide by, a heady fuzz coaxing away a hard day, a daydream about someone else. Pet Shop Boys meets My Bloody Valentine.




Grandaddy are a band i will miss. They wrote some catchy fun songs, and they had the capacity to write the most beautiful sad songs. The Software Slump is still a favourite of mine all these years later; the theme so valid, its songs so strong. Jed was the key to the album for me, the character to the idea, and this is such a great video to him.




The XX came to my attention in the Glastonbury highlights. I'd read about them a long time ago, but the name failed to pull me in to give them a listen; lo and behold they fit like a cruel velvet glove.








That is all for this lazy eve. Enjoy.

The Long Escape

So long.

Time was something i always seemed to write about; when i wrote about things. Time gets too grand to spin down, the last grains can't tell the whole story that fell down before. Start afresh. It always takes time before that penny drops. Time = Gravity and all that.




Calexico - Black Heart
Some old favourite rekindled, Calexico can be the uncomfortable night, the dark corners, the shadows in dusk light. But don't forget passion in it's push and pulls, it's ache and drive. Cinema, sex, drink, smoke from cigarettes in heavy air. They never fail to take you somewhere more intense than the now.



Murder By Death - Spring Break, 1899
Dark and villainous, the song dresses characters out of books and old films, a dark stranger, heeled boots and tired clothes, furrowed brow over short drinks, the efforts to forget. The demise and swan song, the getaway; plumes of dust trail to the border with a sweated brow, a nervous glance behind, tired lies and no alibis.



Beirut - Gulag Orkestar
The freedom of escape; landscapes slide by under a big blue sky, the air dry and a salty thirst on cracked lips, the unknown at fingertips drumming an idle knee. The nearest town is run down, beaten iron and weathered skin, small eyes that have seen this tide; known to care free for the passing. Rolling by, spirits on the rise as the otherside drifts behind, quenched in golden dust, as day turns to dusk, a voice grows aloft in song as joy finds a long forgotten soul. The first quiet night dawns a new time.