Notes From The Flip Side: 12.03.2000
It's 2 a.m. I went to see Notice play their CD release party. Great bunch of guys, wonderful album. I drove home through fog so thick that I turned my emergency blinkers on while I was driving; since I couldn't see 15 feet in front of me, I figured I needed to do everything I could not to get rear-ended by an SUV. I listened to The Weakerthans "Left and leaving" while I crawled along the freeway.
The Weakerthans' music is frequently quiet and subtle, delicately shaded with alienation and the despair of loneliness. And I can't think of a single album better suited for driving home alone through fog so dense that I couldn't see the world around me.
I've had a crush on this girl lately. I don't really know her that well, but she plays guitar and I love how her stringy blonde car wash hair cascades over the pickups on her six-string. The strangest thing about it is that I know I only have a crush on her because of how she plays guitar - she's beautiful, but watching her play guitar is like being invited to observe an incredibly intimate and personal ritual. It's like witnessing something private, something that was never meant for anyone else's eyes. I love watching her wrench feedback out of her amp, tugging at it, cajoling it, letting it peek out, shy and tentative, then gaining confidence as it leaves the cone and starts to resonate, building a solid ringing wall as it moves across the room. When she plays, I hear the possibilities of pop music swell and expand. I hear what it has been - and what it may yet be. And I watch her fall in love with her guitar all over again every time they play.
The Sharpshooters "Viva Los Guerrillas!," Jersey "The Battle's Just Begun," Pegboy "Strong Reaction," assorted Furious IV demos.