Dirty Beaches is lying in the back of an old beat up car that's filled with smoke, because you're smoking but also because the driver's smoking too, maybe, if there even is a driver, the smoke's been wafting around (windows closed) and this isn't even your first cigarette, there's a pack on the floor (slightly crumpled (really, only lightly)) and you are daydreaming, caught up, it's hazy and you are on the road and the lights go by in fine hypnagogic form and you feel alone and if you could only put things in perspective and see the actual passage and travel of the car you would know you are right.
I thought about writing more but end-of-america music seems better off alone.
Snag: Badlands s/t cassette
xoxo
Alec
No comments:
Post a Comment