when i woke up you were gone
and the sun was on the lawn
empty pillow with perfume on
[neil young – too far gone]
Archive for November 2009
The countdown of the ILM 1980s album poll is going on and I discovered this devastating live performance by Big Black of a song from Atomizer which placed at #97. And I immediately wanted to be back in 1986 again. What an incredible burst of energy!
Ein kleines von einer Sirene gesungenes Schlafliedchen, das einem melodischen Höhepunkt zustrebt und ihn dann in Verzerrung erreicht. Nichts Besonderes eigentlich und doch ein ziemlich hartnäckiger Ohrwurm.
When I saw David Freel last year in Weinheim in front of about twenty people he told me that there will be a new record out soon under the awkward moniker Be My Weapon and I thought, oh well, really? Swell was the band which defined my seven year stay in Luxembourg best. The smell of sweet grass in the kitchen in my flat in Limpertsberg with the phone on Don’t Give from 41 ringing into the void on a hot summer afternoon when I was having a Weißbier on the balcony and A. was about to join me there. There was a very relaxed atmosphere of light heartedness in the air. We were at the right place at the right time. I have not had that feeling so often in my life. Hardly ever for such a long time, almost a year. And Swell’s music was part of it, the slightly distorted guitar playing bittersweet tunes which carved themselves in my brain, the forceful drums & bass, the long pauses mounting the tension, David Freel’s calming baritone. I hardly ever listened to the words, they were more or less banal I think but it was not important. Swell released a lot of hit and miss records in the past ten to twelve years, David Freel on his own or with always changing band members, I bought them all, my love is hard to kill. I did not expect a lot of the new release which I bought from his site, so I was in for a nice surprise. It sounds almost like a Swell album from the old times. I Miss Your Mischief, the song from above, has got this melancholic touch combined with this sluggishness I adore. It is not yet grand cru again but it is at least premier cru. Thank you, David.
Clusters of people talking secretly to each other
In a bar you cannot talk openly
to anyone you don’t already know
They have got the right idea
They jump the line and hit it on the nose
When we sit and we get quiet
Then we look and see who’s home across the way
There are 80 windows we can see
It’s Christmas-time and they all have the same tree
You tell me the patterns you already see
I wonder if they see us in our bed
You said you like the one with the father
who always eats with his son
I like the rows of lights
because they keep me calm
I feel far away from you
So what else is new?
The moon is closer to the sun
than I am to anyone