02.11.03 - 3:27 p.m. Some music just makes you bleed, somehow. It settles in your gut and gathers up in a weave and transports you in a way that feels sheerly physical. Right now, I'm listening to Lucinda Williams' CD Essence, the fifth track - and there's this very simple baseline running under the whole thing, which little sudden flourishes of the steel guitar that make me think, America, road trip, dusty town, squinting eyes, that longing for the horizon that is somehow the very essence of romantic American throughout the long path through the middle of the country. And I love that you get her voice all low, for so long (delayed gratification) singing about... eh, i think it's a relationship, and then way into the song, suddenly a fifth higher: We are so out of touch, yeah. Well, I think that's what she's singing. Anyway. GOD. I love this damn CD.
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I am not a Marxist.
-- Karl Marx Dei remi facemmo ali al fol volo. -- Dante Inferno XXVI.125 Intelligent Life Apollos Azra'il Cody Migali The Psycho Salam Pax Silver Wolf she feeds the wound within her veins; she is eaten by a secret flame. -- Virgil, Aeneid, IV By your stumbling, the world is perfected. -- Sri Aurobindo |