Zero to sixty and climbing.
I was swaying a little, because Sara had bought me one more Manhattan, which means I owe her a drink. It was noisy, so I leaned in a little where he was squatting on the stage. “Seven days ago,” I said. “I hadn’t heard a goddamn thing. My friend over there,” she’s buying a T-shirt from Peter, and I can’t see her in the crowd, and he wouldn’t know her from Eve, but I gesture over that way anyway, “she says, you have to hear this stuff. So I downloaded a couple of songs, you know?” He’d told the guy ahead of me, who’d borrowed my pen so he could sign the CD, that it was twelve bucks, so I handed him two fives and two ones. “And here I am.” He didn’t even bother to count it. Just stuck the money in a pocket somewhere and handed me a CD. “Hey,” he said. “That really means a fuck of a lot to me.”
Which isn’t true. The first Mountain Goats song I scraped off of Limewire was a cover of Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Two-Headed Boy,” back in April. Which—and it’s a mighty fine song, don’t get me wrong, and Neutral Milk Hotel is one of those bands on my really-ought-to-look-into-them-soon list, and you can hear the quavering kick in his yelp and you can almost see him hunched over the guitar, yes, but—it’s not, perhaps, the most representative sample.
I was scraping Mountain Goats off of Limewire at the behest of Sara and Victoria and Johnzo, who’ve all done right by me so far. And if that first song didn’t move me much, well, the dark matter of P2P is shot through with Goats: there’s 450-some-odd titles in the repertoire, at this point, I think: all those songs stuffed directly onto cassette tapes through a boombox, all those prolific tiny-label releases. Plus all the bootlegged live versions, and all those rabid fans, spreading the gospel. So somewhere at the beginning of May I went back for more, and found “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton” and “Cubs in Five” and I never looked back. —And I know there’s no zealot like a recent convert and I know I’m foolish with having just fallen in love but can I tell you anyway? Listen. Just listen to the angry joy. Listen to the bitter glee. Listen to all these people who know they are about to see something so big that you can’t call it terrible and you can’t call it wonderful, and listen as they try to put it back together again afterwards. He is apocalyptic in the best possible sense of the word, and that’s why when you’re in the same room with him and he’s singing you lift your hands into the air. He immanentizes like a sonofabitch.
So it hadn’t been seven days. So I was lying. But it felt right at the time, and I’d do it again, in a heartbeat.
For Pete's sake! "'Neutral Milk Hotel' is one of those bands on my really-ought-to-look-into-them-soon list"? What are you waiting for?
Takes time and money, these impetuous, mad flings. Time, money, and a spark. No spark yet, and my time and money are otherwise occupied. But I'm patient. It will all come together in the end.
He's an amazing artist. I dragged one of my folk/bluegrass/indie-snob friends to a show last year and he left just as delighted as I was. Haven't heard We Shall All Be Healed yet.
haven't heard we shall all be healed yet? oh my. you are in for -- a 'treat' makes it sound sort of pastel -- so, something like a treat, but much more so.
I've still never seen him live, which hurts. But I live in Olympia, WA and St. Paul, MN, when I'm not in Ireland; so really it's just a matter of time.
Bravo on representing the unrepresentable, by the by. Listening to the Goats always makes me feel really fucking good, or failing that, at least I wind up feeling really fucking good about feeling really fucking bad. You're right, it's pure emotional eschaton.
And check it out, John Darnielle is also a music critic.
ok, so I know you're in love with him know, but you really need to check out Architecture in Helsinki. a bunch of really sweet kids from Australia. check them out here http://www.aih.rocks.it/
This Week's Cartoon (5/31/04)
Inspiration for this week's cartoon derives from a conversation I had over lunch with the delightful Sara Ryan, who was relating the subject of a conversation she had had the night before with Kip when they went to see...