Day I Die by The National

I don’t need you, I don’t need you
Besides I barely ever see you anymore
And when I do it feels like you’re only halfway there
Young mothers love me even ghosts of
Girlfriends call from Cleveland
They will meet me anytime and anywhere

The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?
The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?

Don’t do this, I don’t do this to you
Don’t expect me to enjoy it
‘Cause I really don’t have the courage not to turn the volume up inside my ears
For years I used to put my head inside the speakers
In the hallway when you get too high and talk forever

The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?
The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?

The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?
The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?

I get a little punchy with the vodka just like my great uncle Valentine Jester did
But he had to deal with those people like you who made no goddamn common sense
I’d rather walk all the way home right now than to spend one more second in this place
I’m exactly like you Valentine, just come outside and leave with me

Let’s just get high enough to see our problems
Let’s just get high enough to see our fathers’ houses

The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?
The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?

The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?
The day I die, the day I die
Where will we be?

Advertisements

Opera House by Cigarettes After Sex

Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle
And I walked across its stage, singing with my eyes closed
I’ve got a love for you I just can’t escape
All of my love for you cuts me like barbed wire

I was meant to love you
And always keep you in my life
I was meant to love you
I knew I loved you at first sight

If I abandoned love, I’d be a man without dreams
I’d rather be out there staring death right between its eyes now
And I can still hear the sound of you crying through the night
There in the opera house with no one else for miles

I was meant to love you
And always keep you in my life
I was meant to love you
I knew I loved you at first sight

Slack Jaw by Sylvan Esso

I got all the parts I wished for
I got everything I need
sometimes I’m above water
but mostly I’m at sea

oh, slack jaw me
can’t you see
there’s so many rhythms and harmonies
and I’m walking the dog back

it’s not like I got hurt or broken
or ruined along the way
it’s an aching it shines through me
a swallow in a cage

oh, slack jaw me
can’t you see
there’s so many rhythms and harmonies
and I’m walking the dog back

is it a sign or just a landmine?
or a feeling roaming free?
it’s overtaking me

gonna hold it til it dries up
or pocket it for another day
if it’s me I cannot give up
I’d rather that it stayed

oh, slack jaw me
can’t you see
there’s so many rhythms and harmonies
and I’m walking the dog back

I got all the parts I wished for
I got everything I need
sometimes I’m above water
but mostly I’m at sea

oh, slack jaw me
can’t you see
there’s so many rhythms and harmonies
and I’m walking the dog back

Story by Guia Nocon

for Cesar Vallejo

When the day and the daylight
have dropped out,
when I have let it go by
unseen,
there is a moment
looking for me in its hand,
finding me, every minute,
in worn down, brown leather shoes.
Does it know that I am going
backwards,
deceived into forward thinking,
running foolish into night?
There is a heart buried
in Philam,
in Capitola—next to the foot shower,
in Prague—where a maimed woman,
with hair the color of lightning
sang opera,
in every kitchen I’ve ever danced in.

I know there is a person composed
of my rocking muscles, creaking
against bone,
to whom I fuse
when I gallop, jagged
but it is not home.
I see inside the skin—her life
and the things that comprise it—spreads
like cancer,
like spilled ink
across breasts, knees, thighs—tight,
like suffocation. Blooming.

I know the road,
but my feet have escaped me.
I know the feeling of things
when they recede into distance.
How the blood flows, waving
tiny white flags of light
in veins.
Fulmars, winging into soft tissue.
The moment so small
it is already disintegrating
into dust, but our bodies will remain
for a while yet.

A Modern Woman in the Suburban Wild by Guia Nocon

(for Anne, for Sylvia, and for Tennessee)

It was 4:37 in the morning stepping out.
With no natural light, street lamps
curtsied each to each golden gowns
pooling around their feet.
I walked in shadow.

Feeling small, I traveled
a block and suddenly
Jen touched my shoulder
and we were playing at Anne and Sylvia
in Portland.
We talked of long cures
and all the boys we failed to manipulate
into loving us.

We couldn’t remember
the way home, so
we hid in some Oregon Grape bushes
while the rain misted our faces
just loving each other.

The past is so clear sometimes
it hurts to look at it. Memories
slip through the blood vessels
like a million bits of glass.

Even now I can smell the oil and steel
of the Santa Cruz trestle
that connects the Beach Flats to Seabright,
feel the sleepy drummer beat behind my eyes
as, single file, we followed
the lights of the ferris wheel
into this granite place in our hearts.

Now older, we look like our mothers
and turn away like our fathers.
We have become sadists, cheap
serial daters, boozers,
hopeful, shining, still beautiful.

Losing most things now: friends, brothers,
direction, dignity – whole jet planes
disappearing into greedy, indifferent oceans.

I am afraid.
For godssakes, where is that part of me
that thought everything was funny?

Not laughing now, just searching,
rounding a corner, arms outstretched
to that granite place in your heart,
throwing hallelujahs into the air,
remembering Satie’s mournful piano
during our long cab ride to the basement
in San Francisco, towards Justin’s death,
our dear friend, that beautiful boy.

A stranger’s laughter reaches out to me,
I startle and turn for home.
Searching through motion what I lost in space.

It’s unsettling to realize that there are
wild parts of this world
where you can still get irretrievably lost.

This Earth,
it is such a big, blinding place
full of things we can’t ever know
and we are such small, bewildered
creatures.

So it goes…

I’ve been working on a playlist series.  It’s done now.

Part One: Crush

  1. Beach House – Astronaut
  2. Broken Social Scene – Sweetest Kill
  3. The National – Slow Show
  4. Animal Collective – Summertime Clothes
  5. Little Dragon – Feather
  6. The Microphones – Between Your Ear and the Other Ear
  7. Clarence Carter – Slip Away
  8. Sharon Van Etten – I Wish I Knew
  9. The Jesus and Mary Chain – Just Like Honey
  10. St. Vincent – Landmines

Part Two: Contact

  1. Entrance – I’m So Glad
  2. Jolie Holland – The Littlest Birds
  3. The Mountain Goats – Going to Georgia
  4. The Magnetic Fields – Absolutely Cuckoo
  5. CITIZENS! – True Romance
  6. Dntel – Rock My Boat (featuring Mia Doi Todd)
  7. Beyonce – XO
  8. Stars – Hold On When You Get Love And Let Go When You Give It
  9. The National – Apartment Story
  10. Majical Cloudz – Downtown
  11. Timber Timbre – Hot Dreams
  12. Music from the Major Motion Picture, Her – Photograph
  13. Cigarettes After Sex – Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby

Part Three: Cut

  1. Hayden – Damn This Feeling
  2. The Beatles – For No One
  3. Colin Hay – I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You
  4. The Black Keys – Meet Me In The City
  5. Electrelane – Cut and Run
  6. LCD Soundsystem – Someone Great
  7. The Echo Friendly – Same Mistakes
  8. The Microphones – Headless Horseman
  9. The National – I Need My Girl
  10. Music from the Major Motion Picture, Her – On The Beach
  11. The Mountain Goats – No Children