your trick pony, he don't know me, he don't know me at all.
charlotte gainsbourg - trick pony
via this recording
photo: lili forbes (via of paper and things)
train, train, come and gone
your trick pony, he don't know me, he don't know me at all.
charlotte gainsbourg - trick pony
via this recording
photo: lili forbes (via of paper and things)
she got sunset on her breath
i inhaled just a little bit; now i got no fear of death.
edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros - 40 day dream
photo: hrystia kaminska (via nadinoo)
gold and warm
if only! i left the house today wearing two pairs of socks, tights, leggings, a dress, two sweaters and a coat, hat, scarf, etc. sigh. this is how it begins... soon i won't be able to go outside without feeling like my face is going to fall off with cold. i'd enjoy winter a lot more if i didn't have to go out into it so much.
in the meantime, however, i've also put on a seasonally inappropriate song from benjamin davis and sebastien schultz, aka bad veins. i'll always hold dear the time that i've spent here. i want to hear your heart beating loud. and i want to see you stand up proud. as we go where sunlight is gold and warm.
bad veins - gold and warm
via this recording
photo: erica hoffman (via of paper and things)
hold me close and tell me how you feel
tell me love is real. mmm, darling when you're near.
jessica lea mayfield - words of love (buddy holly cover)
art: roberto calbucci (via of paper and things)
the brain is a slow wave
i could be so happy if i just quit being sad. i could be so happy if I just quit being a drag. i could be so sweet if i just quit being sour. i could do all these things. oh, i have the power. i'm gonna see what tomorrow brings.
heartless bastards - be so happy
heartless bastards - new resolution is my resolution too.
heartless bastards - hold your head high
heartless bastards - the mountain
photo: octavian dogariu (via hello bauldoff)
i like the time i spent with you girl
cold cave - life magazine & the trees grew emotions and died
delorean - seasun & deli
jj - things will never be the same again & ecstasy
photo: sandra croft
all i want
Myrtle
by John Ashbery
How funny your name would be
if you could follow it back to where
the first person thought of saying it,
naming himself that, or maybe
some other persons thought of it
and named that person. It would
be like following a river to its source,
which would be impossible. Rivers have no source.
They just automatically appear at a place
where they get wider, and soon a real
river comes along, with fish and debris,
regal as you please, and someone
has already given it a name: St. Benno
(saints are popular for this purpose) or, or
some other name, the name of his
long-lost girlfriend, who comes
at long last to impersonate that river,
on a stage, her voice clanking
like its bed, her clothing of sand
and pasted paper, a piece of real technology,
while all along she is thinking, I can
do what I want to do. But I want to stay here.
sarah blasko - all i want
sarah blasko - we won't run
photo: nathalie daoust (via of paper and things)
it's never the same way again
for the past few months i've been thinking about my friends. my old friends, whom i've loved for years on end and who now live in cities and countries across the ocean. those old friends who may or may not come back to this country, the ones who might leave this city in a matter of months. i've been thinking about those ones, because i miss them, because i miss being around the people who know me as well as they do.
friends like that, the best kind, they make you feel safe. like your favourite clothes, the ones you've had forever, the ones you've worn in and lived in, they don't make you feel old or boring when you wear them. they protect you, and you can be anyone you like in them. i miss that feeling, feeling safe.
i've been thinking about my friends, and i've been thinking about home. i don't feel like i have a home here. when i mention this to people, especially people who are older than i am, their sympathy comes with the slightest bit of exasperation, because everyone has a time when they feel like they have no home. i don't particularly like zach braff or garden state but even his movie makes this point, because it's a feeling we all get. i don't have a home here because my friends aren't here, or they are but they're already living their own lives, and back at the ancestral seat i have a room in my parent's house with some of my things, and in the city my apartment is a wasteland.
i spend a lot of time at your place. i remember the first time i went back with you, to your house. it was november and it was raining. i had to pee, we had been downtown drinking and i had to pee, and by then everything was closed and we stood in the subway and i stumbled with indecision, i watched my train go by, and we took a cab back to your place so we could watch television and i could pee. on the cab ride i half-closed my eyes and lolled back onto the seat, the drunkard's choice to check out, momentarily, and you put your hand on my hand. your hand was warm and dry. sometimes the booze strips off a layer of protection enough to give your insides a shock. you can put your hand on someone's leg, on their knee, around their shoulders, you can put your hand in your pocket. you put your hand on my hand. i don't remember getting to your place, i don't remember going in. i remember laying on the couch and watching tv with eyes half closed, and you put a blanket over us, and i looked at you and you looked happy. i forgot about that, but now i remember.
i miss my friends and i miss the home that i had with them, but i don't feel it all the time, i feel it sometimes, i feel it less when i'm with you. i've decried, loudly and often, people who fall into relationships for the bonds of built-in friendship, to escape loneliness and sadness and the coldness of winter. what i suppose i never understood is that it doesn't have to be sullied with fear, that when you get love, from the ones you love, the ones who love you, you get a blanket, the best kind, that you carry with you in your heart. you get to go home and sleep in the bed that's yours.
the smiths - there is a light that never goes out
photo via hello bauldoff
friends like that, the best kind, they make you feel safe. like your favourite clothes, the ones you've had forever, the ones you've worn in and lived in, they don't make you feel old or boring when you wear them. they protect you, and you can be anyone you like in them. i miss that feeling, feeling safe.
i've been thinking about my friends, and i've been thinking about home. i don't feel like i have a home here. when i mention this to people, especially people who are older than i am, their sympathy comes with the slightest bit of exasperation, because everyone has a time when they feel like they have no home. i don't particularly like zach braff or garden state but even his movie makes this point, because it's a feeling we all get. i don't have a home here because my friends aren't here, or they are but they're already living their own lives, and back at the ancestral seat i have a room in my parent's house with some of my things, and in the city my apartment is a wasteland.
i spend a lot of time at your place. i remember the first time i went back with you, to your house. it was november and it was raining. i had to pee, we had been downtown drinking and i had to pee, and by then everything was closed and we stood in the subway and i stumbled with indecision, i watched my train go by, and we took a cab back to your place so we could watch television and i could pee. on the cab ride i half-closed my eyes and lolled back onto the seat, the drunkard's choice to check out, momentarily, and you put your hand on my hand. your hand was warm and dry. sometimes the booze strips off a layer of protection enough to give your insides a shock. you can put your hand on someone's leg, on their knee, around their shoulders, you can put your hand in your pocket. you put your hand on my hand. i don't remember getting to your place, i don't remember going in. i remember laying on the couch and watching tv with eyes half closed, and you put a blanket over us, and i looked at you and you looked happy. i forgot about that, but now i remember.
i miss my friends and i miss the home that i had with them, but i don't feel it all the time, i feel it sometimes, i feel it less when i'm with you. i've decried, loudly and often, people who fall into relationships for the bonds of built-in friendship, to escape loneliness and sadness and the coldness of winter. what i suppose i never understood is that it doesn't have to be sullied with fear, that when you get love, from the ones you love, the ones who love you, you get a blanket, the best kind, that you carry with you in your heart. you get to go home and sleep in the bed that's yours.
the smiths - there is a light that never goes out
photo via hello bauldoff
hey mr. afie jurvanen
you charmed the skinny pants off of everyone tonight.
seriously! so good.
bahamas - southern drawl
bahamas - sunshine blues (highly recommended)
bahamas - already yours
bahamas - till the morning
photo: bahamas myspace
seriously! so good.
bahamas - southern drawl
bahamas - sunshine blues (highly recommended)
bahamas - already yours
bahamas - till the morning
photo: bahamas myspace
run every day
I dreamt that I was sick. I dreamt you too,
a face that moved over sounds. Comes a time
I'll wake, I know, but for now you'll keep as mine.
Love's a sickness that I dreamt. Love finds you,
or you it. You always said a messy room
would make itself a messy mind. Something like.
Love's a mess I meant. Comes a time the night
will bring no more to light, or nothing new.
Time is always falling back on its youth.
Everything slides from end to start, from age
to the past for a shine; an easy wage
to look on the never was and find truth,
to clear the mess into neat piles of dust.
I woke up tired, and licked away the rust.
new order - age of consent
photo: coquinete
you know that i could use somebody
you know that i could use someone like you. and all you know and how you speak. countless lovers undercover on the streets. you know that i could use somebody. i hope it's gonna make you notice someone like me.
bat for lashes - use somebody (lo fi)
photo: héctor pozuelo
under the weather
"I lose you in the subway. This trip, it's been long. Two flights, a train, and now this. Before this there was a wedding. I didn't know them, the wedding people. But they looked at me, standing next to you, and they said, I like you two, together. I looked at you then and I look at you now and I wonder if that's true. I kiss you, stand up, get off the train, wondering. You tell me you love me and I wonder.
You'll never tell me you love me, I'll never wonder if you do, again.
I always meet you in the fall. You're always gone by spring. Sometimes you don't know this until the winter. Sometimes you tell me you love me when it's over."
by meredith chamberlain
why? - berkeley by hearseback
why? - eskimo snow
why? - this blackest purse
it's not what you thought
what are the reasons for believing, believing. a body heads south. cause your mouth on my mouth, a fire i just can't put out. it's a fever i just can't stop what i start. apart from believing, it's the leaving. the leaving. my body heads west.
amy millan - lost compass
i'll hold you close under these skies
there's nothing going wrong in the city tonight.
rural alberta advantage - barnesyard
(more from the raa's september daytrotter session.)
photo: sandra croft
all these things about me you never can tell
this dream is in a telescope now.
the joy formidable - the greatest light is the greatest shade
the joy formidable - whirring
the joy formidable - austere
more songs free to download here. and don't miss the unofficial video for "austere," banned by youtube for its sexy times! kinda nsfw, but i watched it at work. shh.
photo via the joy formidable facebook
back to school
"i got out of bed today, staring at a ghost."
check out this recording of kids singing wintersleep's "weighty ghost," from cbc radio 3's 2008 school of rock special. it is super catchy and sweet! at one point the teacher prompts the kids to do the "na na na" part. adorable! all i remember from grade-school music classes is fighting over who would get to play the triangle in kindergarten. "na na na" > the triangle.
if you shake her hard enough she will appear
from the gent who saved latin. coconut records - west coast
plus, the video for the song is of mark gonzales skating around a german museum; according to we love you so, they'd "asked him to do an art show there and instead of hanging art he did this."
last one awake
memory cassette is weird tapes is memory tapes.
memory cassette - 50 mph
memory cassette - last one awake (friend version)
weird tapes - summer of worship
memory tapes - bicycle
memory tapes - green knight
for more, check out we're tapes. oh it's so good! i love memory tapes.
we have abandoned all resolution
you said, this will be a better year. make a little money, take a lot of shit. feel real bad then get over it.
harlem shakes - strictly game
harlem shakes - tfo
harlem shakes - a night
(harlem shakes sxsw daytrotter session)
photo: marla warner
all the arms around you now
someone had a party downtown and i knew the crowd. and everyone was strange, looking sideways at my funny sounds. so I toasted to the weekend and i drank a little more than i should. so i said a few things, i got sick like i knew i would. oh brother, lay a hand on me. i haven’t been in a fight in years.
arms - shitty little disco
(more arms.)
but it didn't
i've always liked the way that the 1999 version of mansfield park ends. as director patricia rozema explains,
"I had written these tableaus at the end of the film in which everyone in the scene would suddenly become still, slip into reverie, stare off into the middle distance at exactly the same moment, and then, altogether, slip back into the day-to-day. When I wrote those moments in, I knew I'd never be able to explain exactly what they meant...[but it felt] like a filmic way to do what Austen was doing in the book."
it's a neat effect. a second of considering what might have been, how things could have gone, but didn't. a brief wide-angle view. and here in the big smoke where the days are stretching out like afternoon shadows, it's hard not to think about the things that have and haven't changed since the last time round. for a moment the music stops, the characters go still, and the narrator says, "it could have all turned out so differently i suppose. but it didn't."
"I had written these tableaus at the end of the film in which everyone in the scene would suddenly become still, slip into reverie, stare off into the middle distance at exactly the same moment, and then, altogether, slip back into the day-to-day. When I wrote those moments in, I knew I'd never be able to explain exactly what they meant...[but it felt] like a filmic way to do what Austen was doing in the book."
it's a neat effect. a second of considering what might have been, how things could have gone, but didn't. a brief wide-angle view. and here in the big smoke where the days are stretching out like afternoon shadows, it's hard not to think about the things that have and haven't changed since the last time round. for a moment the music stops, the characters go still, and the narrator says, "it could have all turned out so differently i suppose. but it didn't."
nothing is ever as good as it was
what you know you have or what you think you want, it's never perfect.
jenny lewis with the watson twins - melt your heart
jenny lewis with the watson twins - melt your heart
now i don't hardly know her
prada the cat is officially in heat. her first time. my first time too, seeing a cat in proper sex-me mode. she keeps rubbing her little cat face against the floor whilst sticking her little cat bum in the air and chirping. so for prada, joan jett's cover of crimson and clover: "i want to do everything, what a beautiful feeling." ba-da-da-da-da-da.
joan jett and the blackhearts - crimson and clover
i don't care where you go as long as it's with me
i hate the feeling of losing something. however, since i usually live in complete squalor, this feeling is not uncommon to me. my things are constantly swallowed up by the mess that is my room, surfacing on occasion like regurgitated pearls. i have almost no control over their reappearance — they show up when they feel like it, perhaps when the tide of my shit (metaphorical, not literal) has receded from the floor of my room, perhaps not. yet from the time that i realize i can't find something to the time that it reappears, i'm obsessed with the thought that it is gone, possibly forever.
makes my brain hurt. seriously.
last month i realized that both of my born ruffians albums are missing. i thought only one had disappeared but no, they're both gone. did i loan them to someone? did someone with a penchant for born ruffians but a shortage of loose cash steal them from me? i have no idea and really, it matters not, because the simple fact is they're not here and i miss them. fare thee well, born ruffians albums. good luck and godspeed. i play for you an appropriate song.
born ruffians - little garcon
don't be afraid, love is simple
i kinda like valentine's day. i mean i don't despise it, and i like valentines themselves—they're really quite cool, combining as they often do bad puns with a certain style of artwork. last year i spent ages trying to find proper old timey valentines to give out but eventually i gave up and printed off a bunch of the red beret-ed rabbit and then cut them all out, which gave me scissor claw from holding the scissors for so long.
now one crappy thing about valentine's day is getting scissor claw from cutting out valentines for people and not getting a single one back. not even from your mother. like what the fuck.
and then of course the biggest crappy thing about valentine's day is having to see couples doing special coupley things and holding hands and going out for dinner and shit, because they think they have to, or whatever, or maybe they really do actually love each other and if you think i dislike couples being all coupley affectionate because i am secretly envious of their love well you'd be dead wrong. this is not a secret at all.
anyways, i give out valentines because i think it's nice and they're nice and there's always the hope that one year someone will remember to give me one.
so here's two songs for you and me and st. valentine on st. valentine's day. because love's simple, isn't it, just like the akron/family says.
akron/family - don't be afraid, you're already dead
the futureheads - hounds of love
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