I'll Believe in Anything
Last night on the way to hang out with Kenny Caperton and his cats of doom Kasey unceremoniously picked an unassuming blue CD from her binder and went to the ninth track.
And not for the first time, I unexpectedly hear one of those songs that goes straight into your heart and your head and doesn't leave until you've listened to it for weeks, and even after you'll be in love with it. She's the only person who's ever introduced me to music like this.
I'm putting it up in my streaming music library now for your enjoyment. Click the Streaming Music Library link to your right and make an account to listen to it, and all the other bits and bites that make up my collection. The song is called "I'll Believe In Anything" by Wolf Parade. It reminds me of Grandaddy's "A.M. 180" which I also fell for. It's lovely.
Right now my tiny self is chillin' in a P-Town coffee shop enjoying free wireless and consuming a warm beverage and flaky croissant. Just a tip: Never get a croissant if you're not going to have a table to eat off of. The front of your shirt will look like the floor or a busy bakery.
There's about a dozen women in this tiny shop, all part of a knitting circle that apparently recruits over the Internet. They've camped out the best spots, hence my tablelessness. I got my headphones way up. I'm a loving, caring, soul but their gossip is noise pollution and it only gets worse with every passing minute, like they're each in a slow race to see who's conversation can be the loudest.
Kasey is my Sugah Mamma today, we stopped at an ATM this morning so she could give me a twenty for my upcoming adventures. I'm thinking after this I'll walk the pugs, maybe have some cereal (Fruity Pebbles rip-offs, mmm mmm) and then hop on Isabelle and get a cigar. Maybe plan a long, circuitous route out to Kasey's work so we can meet up for a late lunch. But that involves going to/through Virginia Beach which I have officially dubbed The Worst Fucking City To Ride Your Bike In. We'll see.
Take 'er easy, folks.
- David
And not for the first time, I unexpectedly hear one of those songs that goes straight into your heart and your head and doesn't leave until you've listened to it for weeks, and even after you'll be in love with it. She's the only person who's ever introduced me to music like this.
I'm putting it up in my streaming music library now for your enjoyment. Click the Streaming Music Library link to your right and make an account to listen to it, and all the other bits and bites that make up my collection. The song is called "I'll Believe In Anything" by Wolf Parade. It reminds me of Grandaddy's "A.M. 180" which I also fell for. It's lovely.
Right now my tiny self is chillin' in a P-Town coffee shop enjoying free wireless and consuming a warm beverage and flaky croissant. Just a tip: Never get a croissant if you're not going to have a table to eat off of. The front of your shirt will look like the floor or a busy bakery.
There's about a dozen women in this tiny shop, all part of a knitting circle that apparently recruits over the Internet. They've camped out the best spots, hence my tablelessness. I got my headphones way up. I'm a loving, caring, soul but their gossip is noise pollution and it only gets worse with every passing minute, like they're each in a slow race to see who's conversation can be the loudest.
Kasey is my Sugah Mamma today, we stopped at an ATM this morning so she could give me a twenty for my upcoming adventures. I'm thinking after this I'll walk the pugs, maybe have some cereal (Fruity Pebbles rip-offs, mmm mmm) and then hop on Isabelle and get a cigar. Maybe plan a long, circuitous route out to Kasey's work so we can meet up for a late lunch. But that involves going to/through Virginia Beach which I have officially dubbed The Worst Fucking City To Ride Your Bike In. We'll see.
Take 'er easy, folks.
- David
posted by BuddhaDave at
9:10 AM
1 Comments:
I'm glad someone appreciates my perfect musical taste. Damn me and my esoteric nature!
Totally kidding about that esoteric thing. I'm not some jerk off art gallery owner or anything.
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