I’ve never claimed to be a saint. I like to chemically alter my state. Through affected lenses the world was wide open. The first day of May blanketed us all in warmth. The back of my neck, my arms…It coursed through my veins as I walked through Maplewood village. The sun reflected off the change in my hands. I didn’t mind that it partially blinded me. Everything was new. Magic was afoot. Looking through objects. Totally lucid and euphoric…For a while.
In the car, I finally had a chance to listen to the new Magnolia Electric Co. album that Jason Molina gifted me after our meeting in Chicago. The version in my possession is unmastered, but man, it’s really good. There are a couple tracks that rival “Farewell Transmission” and “I’ve Been Riding With the Ghost,” and it’s much more focused than What Comes After the Blues. The full band versions of “Hammer Down” and “North Star Blues” are both excellent. All in all it sounds solid from start to finish, probably the best of the three proper studio albums. Y’all are in for a treat wheneverthefuck it comes out…
Jet called last night to see that I arrived home okay. I heard a strange, warbled sound in the background and asked what she was listening to. She said it was a compact disc of my songs that I’d burnt for her during the first semester of my senior year at Muhlenberg. I asked why on earth she would want to listen to that, and she said that despite her never having brought it up in conversation, she thinks I’m very talented and have a wonderful voice. When I finished laughing, I told her to “shut up,” and then quietly thanked her. Despite my statements to the contrary, she attempted to convince me that out of all her male musician friends, she enjoys my singing the most. As flattering as it was, I refused to believe her. She asked if I would move to Chicago and start a band with her and I said if she finds a job for me, I would have no reason not to. We talked for a few more minutes about me–which is something I’m not that accustomed to doing with any semblance of sincerity–and then bid one another adieu. I then listened back to the songs that we recorded in her apartment (with me on acoustic guitar and she on cello) and converted them to MP3. I’ll share a couple later. They’re definitely…Different. At two in the morning I went downstairs and tried to work on something I’ve been writing for the past few days…It’s coming a long, I guess. You know, another slow song about love. What else is new?
