Thursday, August 28, 2008
I loved this song so much when I was little. It brings back memories of listening to bad AM radio broadcast out of Tijuana on a tiny pink & purple transistor radio my folks game me for Christmas, rollerskating in the cul-de-sac, playing dress up in the front yard with all my girlfriends, slicking on bubble gum Bonne Bell Lipsmacker, the ever-present California smell of fresh moved green grass enveloping all those lazy days. It's also clearly a song that was obviously responsible for the gestation of what would prove to be my lifelong obsession with all things British. A happy memory all around, really.
The last time I was in love with someone, I remember lying in the dark in his bedroom, listening to his music. This song came on randomly, and I felt such a visceral connection to it and to him. I felt like I was going to cry, but because I was happy. I was so overwhelemed by the purity of the moment- of something so dear from my past merging seamlessly with something so loaded and delicate and lovely that was pregnant with promise. I stared at him in the dark and thought to myself, this is meant to be. This is magic. Being in love is magic.
And then we broke up and I realized it's all a bunch of fucking lies and bullshit and exhausting theatrics and blah, blah, blah. But this song is still savage. Enjoy Let Me Go by Heaven 17.