||"We'll Be Free"
||Ah, those giddy moments between when you discover a new band you've never heard that plays the music you hear in your heart, and when you discover they have two whole albums already and this is an advance single from the third, and when you realize that you love them so immediately because, in fact, you already loved both of those albums, and the previous single only a month ago.|
||"Blood of Heaven"
||I do not pretend to hold all this music, all these indexes of this music, in the active registers of my memory at once.|
||Seas on the Moon
||Ask me who I'm listening to now, but hold me away from my devices while I try to answer, and you'll get some weird arbitrary study of what bands I've mentioned in texts to the like-minded,|
||or had to look up to make or disassemble some point about psychogeography|
||Pain & Fiction
||or apocalyptic lineage.|
||Torn Between Two Worlds
||Did I already love Torn Between Two Worlds? Confidential? Despised Favicon?|
||I do not remember.|
||"Cheers to Revenge"
||Have I already met these coworkers with Swedish or Croatian or Brazilian names,|
||a crowd of rebellion
||"Re:Create of the Re:d (feat. 星熊南巫)"
||beaming in boxes on my screen?|
||Memory is an anxious coping mechanism for scarcity,|
||a recounting of the insufficient ritually undertaken to stave off hunger or panic.|
||I remember the presidential candidates I voted for out of genuine belief,|
||the cities where I have felt centered,|
||the streets between my elementary school and my childhood home,|
||the names we gave our cats and our child,|
||残響散歌 / 朝が来る 6
||two folk-songs about the Erie Canal and seven about shipwrecks,|
||most of the letters in three alphabets,|
||the words I missed in the two spelling bees I lost|
||after the one I won,|
||all the lions I have declined to fight.|
||Cö Shu Nie
||Nobody ever asks me for their names.|
||I start every week with more music than I can manage,|
||Love You So Much
||but the same insane and perfect plan to somehow fall in love with all of it at once.|
||I Don't Like Mondays.
||Every song I let go,|
||I first kiss.|
||You have been heard, chiming and flawless,|
||"Strike It Out"
||and whatever happens next, you cannot be unheard again.|
||We have held bright swords|
||"BEFORE the DAWN"
||aloft in the moonlight.|
||The ravens nod, and fly off to report.|
||"Ticket To The Next Apocalypse"
||Five minutes into the meeting, Luna ghosts between the monitors|
||and comes to sit just out of the camera's frame,|
||"Le bal des ombres"
||whispering to me about the other imaginary rooms where me and these people have been,|
||"Hijos de Medea (BJ II)"
||and about the impermanence of death and distance.|
||"Dive into the Light"
||We didn't used to walk around with voracious cameras,|
||"Out of the Ashes"
||Out of the Ashes +3
||never mind ambivalent panopticons|
||constantly undermining our transience.|
||There used to be lonely parts of town;|
||The Monster Roars
||now all of it is mapped.|
||Rock Believer +1
||I remember the first hundred records I bought,|
||like I remember middle-school crushes:|
||sheepishly, proudly, from a merciful remove.|
||Spirits Of Fire
||"Into the Mirror"
||I remember the first time I heard "Holy Diver" or "Operation: Mindcrime",|
||Crusade Of Bards
||"Lies & Ashes"
||Savatage or Thin White Rope,|
||"That Freedom Word"
||The Monster Roars
||We do not live where we grew up,|
||"Liebe auf den ersten Biss"
||even if we do not move,|
||and whether it felt like claustrophobic paradise or gothic escape.|
||"Shemagh in Blood"
||All of these cathartic anthems of extraction|
||Blade of Surtr
||are ways to feel like time is retreating from our resolve,|
||Fake British Nihilist
||"Label Me Insane"
||instead of obviously the exact inverse.|
||"You Require Me To Pray"
||Every song that tears off a little piece of my armor as it passes,|
||"Ain't Death Grand"
||and then pauses after slowing to turn at the other end of the pitch,|
||"Rise of the Destroyer"
||waiting for the crowd to grow impatient for a wound,|
||"A Siren Song (Odysseus, Pt. 2)"
||Of Kings and Gods
||sings a quiet hymn of invitation under the bellowing chorus of intent.|
||"No Time To Suffer"
||The next ten seconds exist out of time.|
||"And in Old Salamano's Room, The Dog Whimpered Softly"
||There's Always Blood At The End Of The Road
||The next desperate minute;|
||"Einen Traum weiter dort fangen wir das Licht"
||the next unbearable, interminable, exquisite miniature hour;|
||"Le cœur noir charbon"
||Le cœur noir charbon +2
||the next rueful concussive implosion of the universe.|
||"Mono No Aware"
||How do I explain to these people where they know me from?|
||I will tell the Russians that I was a three-headed corgi that guarded the second, slightly less well-known Welsh Hell.|
||I will tell the mountain giants that I was a water elemental frozen into a glacier as punish for loving a summer wind.|
||Wounds of Recollection
||"A Constant Spiral"
||I will tell the juries of the afterlife that I was eternal.|
||I will tell myself that I am all of my dreams.|
||"Jump!! (Or Get Jumped!!!)((by the future))"
||Ah, those jagged, indecipherable moments when you realize how much history happens without you,|
||inventing its own rationales and disavowals.|
||The things you touch, and then let go,|
||"I just wanna be silent"
||float up towards everything falling slowly towards you from every unvisited sky.|
||Against The Current
||Did I already fall in love with you?|
||Were you already taken away?|
||"pity party (feat. Royal & The Serpent)"
||pity party (feat. Royal & The Serpent) +2
||We write new songs when all we remember of the old ones is their names,|
||"Fuck Your Labels"
||and then lie about it when they come back for their assumptions.|
||He Is We
||White Noise +3
||There is no line between the songs we have heard and the songs we have not,|
||no way for such a line to hang tangibly in the air|
||where the songs go to get away from our teeth and our need.|
||"Our Little World"
||So many songs in the same thin, rushing rage of air:|
||"Little Bother (feat. Fousheé)"
||of course all of them are ultimately about what it will feel like when all of this bleeds off into space.|
||The ones you hear are not changed by the experience,|
||Dance With the Dead
||Driven to Madness
||and so too are the ones you haven't heard, yet, not waiting for your love.|
||"On the Run"
||On the Run +2
||This is how physics works, which is exactly why we keep inventing metaphysics,|
||as if we need a system that codifies metaphor|
||but isn't already poetry.|
||The ravens never actually left.|
||"In The Light of Knowledge"
||In The Light of Knowledge
||They're sitting with the cat, next to your screen,|
||"Shut Off The Lights"
||waiting for you to want to hear what they've learned about your frailties and the fates you fear.|
||"Brother the Cloud"
||We remember voices that sounded old when we were young,|
||Taylor Swift + Partner In Crime 2
||and vice versa.|
||We remember things we built from a small box of plastic bricks,|
||and then songs we heard in the same bedroom that offered us zephyrs into the beyond,|
||The Fires +2
||and then somehow we stop.|
||Hurray For The Riff Raff
||PIERCED ARROWS +2
||We mistake our formative transformations for decisions,|
||"In The Eyes Of Our Love"
||In The Eyes Of Our Love +2
||and forgetting for loss.|
||Rabbit Hole +3
||Love is not a handhold.|
||Joy is not a tiny room|
||hidden at the center of a warded labyrinth.|
||Healing EP 3
||This is what the guy with the horns was trying to tell you as the two of you passed.|
||It's not that the legends are wrong,|
||Sefako Sa Menoaneng
||Koluoa Ea Noka Ea Linakeng, No:16
||it's that they are infinite.|
||Rebelde la Serie
||"Sálvame (feat. Giovanna Grigio, Alejandro Puente, Franco Masini, Azul Guaita & Andrea Chaparro) - Balada Portuguesa"
||Circling inward is a dance you do on open ground, drawing lines with your toes.|
||"When's It Gonna Happen"
||Joy is the ground. Joy is the lines.|
||I remember these places I have never been,|
||"Heartbreak In A Honda"
||and exactly where I parked outside of them in cars I never owned.|
||"It Comes In Waves"
||I remember your hands in my hair when we were weightless.|
||"Ley de la Gravedad"
||I remember dancing to songs that we decided were the Cure songs from some other incurable world,|
||"Balla sui tetti"
||and this white wool winter coat I had to buy second-hand because it was impossible to imagine it new.|
||"La mia legge di attrazione"
||I remember holding it closed against the cold as we walked around trying to figure out where the music was coming from,|
||Aiko el grupo
||"Niños furbito y niñas lo que sea"
||Niños furbito y niñas lo que sea +1
||and then later, spilling out of the steam and hope,|
||"Kompass & Chauffeur"
||Ästhetik des Widerstands
||how the cold felt sharper but welcome.|
||"The Lost Ones"
||Ask me who I'm listening to now, and everything I've ever loved is playing in my head again at once.|
||Something that reminds me of something, that's what would say if I were only honest,|
||Cold Night For Alligators
||Behind Curtains 5
||and only able to think in reverse.|
||We forget like we exhale.|
||Joy is the air. Joy rises from the ground|
||Teeth Agape +3
||but only as high as our mouths.|
||In The Sunset Fire
||You get to the mountain, to the end, to the doom you feared,|
||and you stand there for a moment, watching it roil and apocalesce.|
||Toss something in, maybe: the opposite of a souvenir, like a memento but for forgetting;|
||something that will the heart of the earth a story about the skin of it.|
||"The Day After the Night Before"
||The Monster Roars
||And then the world doesn't end, and you realize this isn't the end, it's just halfway.|
||"From Head To Toe - EMI Demo May 26-30, 1987"
||Look Sharp! 30th Anniversary Edition
||Or if this isn't your first mountain of doom,|
||"Never Is A Long Time - EMI Demo May 26-30, 1987"
||Look Sharp! 30th Anniversary Edition
||you realize that it's not halfway, either, and nor is death a horizon.|
||Those two fucking ravens, you now notice, are bobbing their heads almost imperceptibly, but in sync.|
||The Lion Faced Boy
||"you should see me in a crown"
||There are no gods waiting for word of your movements, or estimates of the viability of your faith. Or there are, but those gods are you.|
||"The Phantom of the Opera"
||That much of the mythology is descriptive, at least: You are sustained by your helpless, inevitably overcomplicatd belief in yourself. We are sustained together by our uncontainable, inexplicable, irreconcilable belief in ourselves.|
||"Let It Go"
||Whatever happens next, we could never have prevented or lived without.|