Воскресенье 30 Янв 2011, 0:27

My hands feel safest in the pockets of a fleece jacket I wear, for some reason, in the lower depths of the winter season. I always have music on.
I'm Ipod-less, always have been, but probably won't always be. They will, however, be extremely irrelevant, my future Ipod, by the time I get my hands on one. This summer, I inexplicably decided to really take a good listen to Pavement. Only fifteen goddamn years late. To be fair to me though, I am only 30. None of my 15 year old friends at the time listened to Pavement. I certainly didn't. So, after giving them a nice and hearty listen, and after deciding with a clean conscience that I loved them, the next eight weeks of my life was consumed by one song and one song only: "Gold Soundz". Every singular free thought, every waking moment, "Gold Soundz" was the soundtrack. An immovable object. The song became so ingrained in me, I was somehow morphing it into something MY OWN. Lyrics changing or blurred, somehow from repeating them so much? Certain melodies become blurred as well. Like a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy. Distorted. Cold. Meaningless.

The reason why I liked the song so much was becoming a fading memory. I was beginning to hate this song. The quirky lyrics of S. Malkmus. The delicious pop hooks. The swinging rhythm section. The purposeful sloppiness/rawness of their sound.

The song in my head eventually went away, like I knew it would. I made the decision to avoid the song for as long as was necessary, and, goody for me, I loved the song again. Like I knew I would. Gold Soundz