Something's in the air--is it the impending Chinese New Year, or Valentine's Day? Conch reminded me that it's been a year since Big Bad February 2004 came and kicked each and every one of us in the gut. It was a terrible, terrible time--which resulted in some pretty good mix CDs that I will never play again. And I bet the makers of those CDs (you know who you are) won't mind if I say that, thanks, you guys, but it'll be a good long while before I can listen to those CDs without following it up with a slug of whiskey.
Anyway, Conch is working on a more pleasant mix this year--it's going to be mostly chillout, she says--and TGB's already turned in the ominously titled but decidedly less ominous-to-listen-to My Horoscope Said it Would be a Bad Year, which Judgment Bunny's horoscope says is a great mix. Both Starshuffler and TGB have recently posted track lists, too. That should get me off my lazy ass and make my own New February mix, but I also came upon this article in the Village Voice: it's a collection of love letters, and one of them is a love letter in the form of a track list.
I'm sure we're all familiar with how that works. *wry grin*
Now I'm curious about other people's song selections for the soundtrack of their love stories. Would anyone be brave enough to post a track list here? (Luis, why don't you start?)
June 15, 2004
Ten years ago this summer, we rode together standing in the back of a jeep from Lee Wah's Chinese restaurant to Lake Winnipesaukee, and as Liz Phair's "Supernova" played, you casually lip-synched the payoff line right to my face: "And you fuck like a volcano." I've always regretted that I never got to prove it. I'm still a music fanatic, still think of you when I hear that song. And a few other songs as well, even though I could never be to you all that you were to me. Here's the mix tape (or mix EP) I haven't the courage to make for you:
1. Dave Matthews Band, "Dancing Nancies": What I heard when I got to know you, midnight skinny-dipping at the lake with you and about 30 of your closest friends, and knew you could not be ignored. "Sing and dance/I'll play for you tonight./The thrill of it all."
2. Alex Dolan, "Smoking Gun": You were a pop culture vulture of equal stature. "The spectacular Scott Bakula!"
3. The Supremes, "I Hear a Symphony": "A thousand violins fill the air." Particularly when you dry off and change clothes in front of me, with cocksure confidence.
4. Norman Connors, "You Are My Starship": "I just can't say it's here that you want to be." Indeed, I knew it wasn't. But when has that ever tapered desire?
5. The Samples, "Nothing Lasts For Long": The song that made you bleary-eyed, and made me wish I could be the one you said nothing to all night. "Take my hand and walk with me,/And tell me who you love."
6. Wilco, "How to Fight Loneliness": They opened with this at the Orpheum—a perfect night, except that you weren't in the seat next to mine. "Just smile all the time."
7. Sweet Sensation, "Sad Sweet Dreamer": Lying on the dock of that same lake, this time solo, imagining your leg brushing against mine. "It's just one of those things/You put down to experience."
8. Stevie Wonder, "Another Star": I tipsily sang this, the day after your cousin's wedding. Everyone else was still bunked up with dates and spouses, and I had a water-glistened dock for a partner and a robust morning sun for an audience. "For you, love might bring a toast of wine;/But with each sparkle know the best for you I pray./For you, love might be for you to find,/But I will celebrate a love of yesterday."
9. Robbie Williams, "Angels": That was what I sang after you left, the last time I sang with you, at a karaoke party two years ago. I've never held anyone so tightly as when you said goodbye, never put on so brave a face as when I rejoined the party. "
I'm loving angels instead."
Read the full article: "Love Letters, Part 1"
23 hours ago