Yeah, I kinda spaced it last night, but I was being productive around the house. And today?( Oh god, today. THE SURPRISE JOB.Collapse )
Anyway, music! That's the important part!A song that makes me sad:
There's actually a huge list of these on my playlists. Tons and tons, but I guess I'll go for the chest-smashing grief tunes, because ... well, as awful as they are to me, they're my favorite. Black Eyes
is currently holding that position, but that's a fresh wound -- I had The Golden Archipelago
in my stereo when I was driving down to visit the grandfather the last time, and I sobbed all the way to Phoenix. Lines like: and what the body allows/is a flash in the heart/until the memory dies/and a forever life/is an infinite lie hung wide
suddenly took on this immediate, churning meaning when stacked up against this amazing man in the last hours of his life with a body just collapsing, whose illness had become such a part of him we'd sort of integrated it into our minds and -- still assumed he'd keep on trucking forever, because that's what it felt like. Even now, looking back at those last few days, for everything happening it didn't sink in that it was
the end, and finding out he was gone felt like a great betrayal.
But that isn't the song I'm giving you.
Little-known fact about Miri: I was set to perform Memory
from Cats at the pop concert my senior year of high school, but I had to back out because I couldn't get through the whole song without crying. No lie.
But that isn't the song I'm giving you, either.
You get Maybe Sprout Wings
, by The Mountain Goats. John Darnielle's voice is a tenuous things; he's a bit like Jeff Mangum of NMH in that way -- but it's unforgettable, and paired with some of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. This is one of them. It's short, and very simple -- a few chords on a guitar and just a tiny, tiny bit of background, but it's absolutely haunting.I thought of old friends
the ones who'd gone missing
said all their names three times.
Phantoms in the early dark,
canaries in the mines.John playing this live is intense, too, oh my god.
(Wow, that was all way longer than it needed to be. Sorry.)A song that reminds me of someone:
This one was difficult only for choosing which one. My mom and I had a weird relationship when I was a teenager -- I was quietly, mostly politely rebellious -- I went and hung out with my friends while they got smashed and smoked pot and had a lot of sex (though I only engaged in a little bit of each while they went to excess -- I guess, I was kind of the designated driver-type) and was generally the kid telling jokes while everyone else was doing their thing. But yeah -- lots of rebellion, lots of weird anger and us not understanding each other at all, and then one day I picked up Sarah MacLachlan's Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
at Wal*Mart on our way up to the Main Ranch and she went nuts because she'd been looking for Possession
and it was my favorite song at the time and in that one random moment of bonding everything was suddenly okay, and we've been absolute best friends since. And I should probably give you that one, but you probably have it, so you're getting number two -- there'd occasionally be songs where she'd come home and be like 'hey, have you listened to this? It reminded me of you.' Among these have been Nina Gordon's Tonight & the Rest of My Life
, KT Tunstall's Black Horse & the Cherry Tree
, and Chris Cornell's Can't Change Me
. I never saw the connection (though it was always interesting to gain new insight into how she saw me through the songs), but they never fail to remind me of her and those weird music conversations that brought us back together when they pop up on my playlist.she's going to change the world
but she can't change me
no, she can't change me.( complete list of promptsCollapse )