origin of the species.
-
Artist:
-
Album:
-
Track:Brickbat.
so, if you didn't know by now, billy bragg is one of my all time, favorite things, ever. but its not just because he writes amazing, powerful, run me over like a mac truck every time i hear them songs, its because he's there every time something happens.Like Westerberg, Tweedy, Adams and the Beilanko brothers, Braggie seems to be one of those guys who's ther for all the big moments. The embodiment of that High Fidelity exchange between Rob and The Boss. You either know, or you don't. And if you thought the movie was better, you don't. As i drove back from Richmond last night, opting out of the interstate for 460, i had one of those 'my life is a movie and this is the perfect soundtrack' moments, running through songs on the ipod 'til i hit the right things for the right moments, listening to ryan adams and Marah, to Jose Gonzalez and the new Hold Steady. And then, of course, as these long drives always dictate, I broke out the Billy Bragg. I listened to Worker's Playtime and wandered through Back to Basics, and ended up listening, but of course, to William Bloke. And then Brickbat came on. Brickbat, technically, is defined, according to the American Heritage Dictionary, as the following: _1. A piece, especially of brick, used as a weapon or missile. 2. An unfavorable remark; a criticism_ With that move from a high school english paper out of the way, I guess I'll get on with it. I coopted the name after I'd finally looked it up, realized what it meant, realized what a backhanded moment of a perfect love song it really was. It seemed, well, painfully appropriate. I didn't know what it meant the first, oh, hundred times i heard the song. I finally looked it up two or three years ago, and got the answer that i've copied and pasted up above, but for the longest time I just didn't want to know. I didn't. It was like a feeling undefined, something, that if i just put my finger on it, would disappear. Because sometimes leaving it alone is really, fucking honestly, the best thing. And I know I'd heard that song a hundred times if I'd heard it once before this time last year. I mean, fuck, I knew the words. But one afternoon, when it had finally started to get warm and I'd spent the day barefoot in my record store, sitting against a bin while I priced vinyl and let the sun hit my neck, feeling my back arch against the heat, and he'd spent the day with my car, and his kids, and my cd's. So when i got back in the car, where he'd left it parked for me in the lot, close to the store so i didn't have to walk too far in the dark, with a full tank of gas, the heat from the middle of the day still heavy in the leather seats and her car seat still in the back seat, it was this thick, undefinable, recognizable moment of knowing, just knowing, that something i loved had been there. Of course it had. And as the car powered on, and my hand hit the gear shift, the cd in the player started to spin, and brickbat started to play. And it all fucking hit me like nothing else before. I heard a song I've known inside and out for years for the first time. I heard every word. Every moment. Every feeling. The fucking essence of the callouses on Billy Bragg's fingers against guitar strings and the heartbreaking idea of stealing kisses in the grocery store were all there, inside that red swedish box, and I didn't. fucking. know. what. to. do. And driving in the rain, in the dark, back toward him last night, I heard that song the same way, all over again. Thick and sticky, hard to swallow and so fucking dear, so close to the edges of everything that makes up this disconnected and honestly lucky to be alive soul. _I ought to leave enough hot waterFor your morning bath, but Id not thoughtI hate to hear you talk that wayBut I cant bring myself to say I'm sorry__The past is always knocking incessantTrying to break through into the presentWe have to work to keep it outBut I wont be the first to say its over__I used to want to plant bombs at the last night of the promsBut now youll find me with the baby, in the bathroom,With that big shell, listening for the sound of the sea__I steal a kiss from you in the supermarketI walk you down the aisle, you fill my basketAnd through it all, the stick I take is worth it for the love we make__I used to want to plant bombs at the last night of the promsBut now you'll find me with the baby, in the bathroom,With that big shell, listening for the sound of the sea,The baby and me__I stayed in bed, alone, uncertainThen I met you, you drew the curtainThe sun came up, the trees began to singThe light shone in on everything.I love you.__The sun came up, the trees began to singThe light shone in on everything.I love you._
Comments (6)