And I want to wake up with the rain falling on a tin roof while I’m safe there in your arms. So all I ask is for you to come away with me in the night. Come away with me. ~Norah Jones I actually fell asleep the other night listening to rain fall on the metal roof of the parking structure outside of my window. It strove to drown out the soft drone of the nearby freeway, intermittently exchanging the lull of a sweet pitter-patter for a deep, driving canter. I lay there in my bed, just listening to creation. Listening to the quickening and calming pulse of the rain, now on the roof, now on the window. I love listening to nature. In the summer I like to walk around a nearby lake and just tune into the beauty around me. Doing such has led me to a couple concrete conclusions: deer are really quiet and squirrels are really loud. Aside from that, you can hear several different genres of birds trilling to one another or a warning buzz from that hornet’s nest around the corner, or the comical ker-plop of a turtle flopping into the water (they line up on a branch and just walk off, it’s cute.) I also love listening to the city. Just sitting outside at one of my favorite cafés near downtown and listening to the cars go by. In the summer, you can hear free live music filtering from different clubs, mixed with the neon hum and glow, broken by passing roadsters, speckled with bits and pieces of random conversations from passing pedestrians. Ahhh, the natural music of the world. Yeah, sometimes it’s nice to ‘come away’ and sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy right here and right now. What do you hear? posted by me 10:46 AM . . .
Lyrics are never enough. I want to hold you in the Bible black predawn… I always thought that if I held you tightly you would always love me like you did back then. Then I fell asleep in the city kept blinking, what was I thinking when I let you back in. I am trying to break your heart. ~ I am trying to break your heart. I know we should be grateful. Everything is falling apart. Everything is breaking and it lifts my heart to see you as an angel, as some ghostly work of art. Why don’t come to me now wherever you are. ~ More like the moon. All I can see is black and white and white and pink with blades of blue that lay between the words I think on a page I was meaning to send to you. I couldn’t tell if it would bring my heart the way I wanted when I started writing this letter to you but if I could you know I would just hold your hand and you’d understand I’m the man who loves you. ~ I’m the man who loves you. ~ Wilco Have you ever heard the first song on a disc and just wanted to listen to it over and over and over again, but you know you can’t because the next song is just as good, and the next after that, and actually, the entire disc is so amazing that you wish you could listen to and understand every song simultaneously so that you don’t miss one second of any of them and it kills you to sit through each song because you can’t wait for the next one, yet you don’t ever want the one you’re listening to to ever end? Welcome to Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In my delinquency, I delayed far too long in this must-have purchase and now I feel like I have almost a year’s worth of listening to make up for. What’s more agonizingly delightful is the 6-track bonus cd, which vies for as much attention as the headliner and leaves one spending way too much time debating which one to listen to, like trying to decide between chocolate fudge brownie ice cream and fudge brownie chocolate ice cream (if you like chocolate, that is) and eventually switching between the two because you just can’t wait to hear one and then miss the other. But don’t just take my word, or Wilco’s words, for it. Go. Listen. Experience. Lyrics are never enough. posted by me 11:03 AM . . .
