Category Archives: Musiclove

Love (27)

Just listen to this and read those beautiful lyrics.

Standing at the punch table swallowing punch
can’t pay attention to the sound of anyone
a little more stupid, a little more scared
every minute more unprepared

I made a mistake in my life today
everything I love gets lost in drawers
I want to start over, I want to be winning
way out of sync from the beginning

I wanna hurry home to you
put on a slow, dumb show for you
and crack you up
so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain
god, I’m very, very frightening
I’ll overdo it

Looking for somewhere to stand and stay
I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away
Can I get a minute of not being nervous
and not thinking of my dick
My leg is sparkles, my leg is pins
I better get my shit together, better gather my shit in
You could drive a car through my head in five minutes
from one side of it to the other

I wanna hurry home to you
put on a slow, dumb show for you
and crack you up
so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain
god I’m very, very frightening
I’ll overdo it

You know I dreamed about you
for twenty-nine years before I saw you
You know I dreamed about you
I missed you for
for twenty-nine years

You know I dreamed about you
for twenty-nine years before I saw you
You know I dreamed about you
I missed you for
for twenty-nine years

The National/Matt Berninger, Slow Show, USA, 2007

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Filed under Musiclove, Poetrylove

Love (21)

It’s four in the morning, the end of december
I’m writing you now just to see if you’re better
New york is cold, but I like where I’m living
There’s music on clinton street all through the evening.

I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert
You’re living for nothing now, I hope you’re keeping some kind of record.

Yes, and jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?

Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You’d been to the station to meet every train
And you came home without lili marlene

And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
And when she came back she was nobody’s wife.

Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see jane’s awake —

She sends her regards.
And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
I’m glad you stood in my way.

If you ever come by here, for jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.

Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried.

And jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear

— sincerely, L. Cohen
Leonard Cohen, Famous Blue Raincoat, the US, 1971

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Parallels 11 – Wine as body

Zechariah 9:17 – For how great [is] his goodness, and how great [is] his beauty! corn shall make the young men cheerful, and new wine the maids.

John 6:53-56 – Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.

The King James Bible

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Filed under Letterlove, Musiclove, Parallels

In which we don’t die, but break and break and break again and burn (for three years only) like sulphur torches at midnight.

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One Of My Turns

It’s an exceptional, revelatory-but-heartbreaking feeling when you become aware of being old enough for Pink Floyd. When you’ve finally lived through enough to get them. When you nod in approval at something that scared you witless only a year ago.

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Filed under Filmlove, Love, Musiclove, Pseudointellectual, youknowmeimimpulsive

Nostalgia

noun
1.
a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time: a nostalgia for his college days.
2.
something that elicits or displays nostalgia.

[C18: New Latin (translation of German Heimweh homesickness), from Greek nostos a return home + -algia ]

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Why I Love Music

I might as well change the name of this blog to “Bits of Anathema & bits of poetry” since this is what it’s turned into, but Anathema is beautiful and poetry is beautiful, so I don’t mind. Stunning Anathema video

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