Three and a half years ago, the door to my heart clicked open.
There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup There’s a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you’ll never see the end of the road While you’re traveling with me
When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won’t win
I didn’t know love could be this free and this secure at the same time.
Discussing the track, Gang of Youths frontman Dave Le’aupepe says:
“This song came about after I struggled with writer’s block for a year, barely managing to etch out more than a single verse of something awful the whole time. I was walking home across the Brooklyn Bridge one night, questioning my place in the world, contemplating giving up music and doing something more substantial. I sort of felt that I wasn’t doing anything that actually mattered. But I looked out at the skyline, all silvery and strange and in typical self-indulged frontman fashion, I began to revel in this moment of abandon, of self-hate. As a result, I think I stumbled across a kind life-affirming axiom; that in a cosmos potentially absent of meaning, and an existence devoid of objective value, I have an opportunity to invent my own meaning. We all do. We can ascribe meaning and value to our own lives and in a way, attribute great esteem and value to each other as a result.
All of us as adults, from youth to old age are drunk, stumbling around in the dark looking for a kebab. I’m scared and unsure, and I want to acknowledge this rather than repress it, or allow cynics to denigrate me because of it. So the song is about becoming more human, more aware and I guess in a way, more alive.”
It’s been just over twelve months since I posted last.
I haven’t been struggling with writer’s block but a change of jobs and new work commitments have eclipsed the time freed up by not travelling for two weeks out of every month. Those spare hours have been filled with study for my new role. As of the end of this week, however, my training period is complete. I’ve passed all the exams and start on shift next Monday. This will give me ample time to ponder over the meaning — or lack thereof — of life.
“Cause not everything means something, honey So say the unsayable, say the most human of things And if everything is temporary I will bear the unbearable, terrible triteness of being.”
Content warning: This post contains discussion of sexual assault and rape culture.
Locker-room talk.
That’s how Republican presidential nominee, Donald Trump, describes his lewd conversation eleven years ago with Billy Bush. In this conversation he brags, in vulgar and de-humanising terms, about kissing and groping women without their consent.
Let’s be clear.
Kissing and groping women without their consent is sexual assault.
Bragging about kissing and groping women without their consent is bragging about sexual assault.Continue reading →
The radio is playing memories, not music. But in the end, I suppose they’re the same thing.
Sarah’s fragile, melodic voice settled low into the valley of the natural amphitheatre like the evening fog that was rolling in with the crowd. Continue reading →
Although I never quite achieved chainsmoker status, a few years ago, I did inhale considerable amounts of nicotine-laced smog in an effort to calm the thoughts in my head and numb them into a fog. I’ve long since quit but I’ve quit a lot of things since then. This song doesn’t have any hidden meaning or message, I just love the arrangement and the voices in this cover.
Snippets & Glimpses 