A full-on house tornado
I recently made a new friend who hates shoegaze music. That fact is neither here nor there. I mean, she’s wrong, obviously, but that’s not the point. The point is… oh God, I have no idea what the point is. My brain is in a definite haze. I couldn’t care less what the narrative is right now. To decipher lyrics seems as purposeful as, say, naming and numbering the veins and arteries in the human body. I’m sure there are brilliant people out there for that purpose. But to me it’s all a wash of blood. It’s a Red Sea.
So I’m back into shoegaze. In a true Too Old To Rock And Roll: Too Young To Die comic tale, I have watched fashions come back round to where I have been all along. No, I’m not talking about plaid. I was into plaid and flannel just before grunge hit, swallowing the original shoegaze wave. I’ve hated plaid ever since then. But now it’s back. And so is shoegaze. Nugaze they call it now. These days I live in Baltimore, a VHS Dream.
Actually, nugaze is about 3 years old now and is probably on the way out again. But tonight it reflects perfectly the emotional blur of being in love. Not that I’m in love, mind you, but if I were, this is what it might sound like. This is why I can’t sleep. Unlike a Billie Holliday or a Stephin Merritt, I never had words for love. To me it’s all mush. Magnificent oblivion. Baltimore flies by, a blur.
(Referenced mp3s are: Asobi Seksu/Red Sea; Deerhunter/VHS Dream; Airiel/This Is Why I Can’t Sleep; Fleeting Joys/Magnificent Oblivion)