Monday, September 26, 2011
All The Umbrellas In London - The Magnetic Fields
I've spent the last hours typing letters into the ether in hopes of fucking a ghost in a motel room, this on the 9th anniversary of my own personal shit sandwich and third anniversary of my entering the monastery in hopes of fucking what? really? i don't know so i sit and toast the demise of the Toxic Towers and Harpo Nunez, he's taken himself from the vast fucking wasteland called the interweb and who can blame him really? it's a thankless fucking task and he's actually got talent unlike some tall septic with a fading jump shot and a gimpy ankle, so here's to Harpo and the Kid and my fucking cats and to thunderstorms and to bad fucking poetry read in the same monotone voice with the same dramatic pauses that tell me i should be listening... but i'm not, cuz poetry is what you do when you can't write fucking songs like Stephen Merritt, and this song is one of my all time favorites, and though i may seem a bit caustic as i sit here and sweat in my tinylittleroom i'm not, in fact i'm in a good mood and relatively sober and typing away and thinking about wanking and leaving the monastery and washing that shit sandwich down with a nice cold Guinness and finding that ghost and fucking her like Santa's Reindeer on magic beans and pixie dust... but instead i'll just sit here and you (whoever you are) will get this and probably not understand a word of it but at least the tune is good and in the end that is all we can really ask for...
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4 comments:
oh god I'm flying. Why do they make beer with so much hops and so much deliciousness?
Anyhow, I've been adding every other or every third or every sixth of your songs to my iPod, which is a tiny little fucker, I think it's like a poem, brevity of phrases and all that, and I think that that will help or hurt my sanity. Either or.
One second I'm pretty sure I know what you're saying, and then the next, not quite so sure. While that's all fine and dandy, I hope everything's okay in the general sense... and not general sense...
Fuck - it's way too early for me to talk sense.
Anyway, you're right -the song is good and you're still on the internetz, so I'm happy.
xo
the tune is good. thanks!
those preps look like a bizarro cast of twin peaks, except for the boy in the glasses, who looks like mr. peabody, dog genius.
it's also been about four years since a wise man walked out of the shadows, bought me a beer, and told me that it wasn't so bad...
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