Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Music for cold weather, day two

6. Smog - Wild Love (1995)

It's Christmas Eve, 1995, and you just had your heart really broken for the first time and you're snowed in with your entire family, all the lame cousins and insufferable second cousins you wouldn't talk to if it weren't for familial obligations and aunts and uncles who get obnoxiously jovial after having one too many cocktails, and you can't get that fucking night out of your head and you can't talk to any of them about it because they are so far fucking removed from reality that you want to puke, and talking to them would make you feel even more alone because they wouldn't understand, because they are the people you are supposed to feel closest to, but they feel like total strangers instead, ones you're forced to associate with every year around this time. You're drinking from a water bottle filled with siphoned Dewer's you stole from your grandparent's liquor closet when no one was looking (and maybe a couple muscle relaxers from the bathroom cabinet, if you're lucky), and now you're sitting outside listening to Smog on shitty headphones at 3AM on the back porch watching a cloudburst of snow trickle down in waves, reminding you of him/her because everything does, because that's how heartbreak is. You're wrapped in layers, coats, jackets, scarves, winter gloves, and chain-smoking, hoping no one comes out and discovers you. You're freezing your ass off, but it beats the alternative which is being warm and listening to that goddamn spinning carrousel on the mantle playing a MIDI loop of "Silent Night" because it would be too much to bear and you might just off yourself if you had to deal with that on top of everything else. Finally, the albums ends and you feel like you may have hypothermia, but you don't care because the numbness from the freezing air, the scotch, and the music makes you feel a strange sense of catharsis and you stumble inside into bed and as you drift off to sleep, you can't quite remember what his/her eyes look like, and you take comfort and solace in that, if only for those few minutes before you lose consciousness.

Rating: 9.5/10


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