The Hipster Brigade
Monday, January 26, 2004
 
i think i missed the point completely

in 1997, i used to listen to a lot of alternative radio. practically any song could come on some alternative rock station and i would know it. i would yell the album, artist and song. it was a talent, really. i impressed my friends. i impressed myself. i impressed my mom. but despite knowing every bad and good song on the radio, i rarely bought cds. half of my collection was obscure smashing pumpkin imports and the other half were bands people had forgotten or didn't know about.

then there was everclear. i have to admit that "santa monica" is just a great song. was. really. i don't think i can stand it anymore. i can't listen to those albums anymore. my 1997 albums. i'm just not my 1997 self anymore. for which i am glad. my 1997 self was annoying, lost and hopeless.

but there is still one song that makes me want to write. one song from "so much for the afterglow" that makes me bob my head even when no one knows what i'm listening to and i dance all by myself in the Boston Common after class and everyone stares at me.

honestly, i think i just liked the bit about the record store.

"White Men in the Black Suits" by Everclear

I am just a boy working in a record store
Yes I moved to San Francisco just to see what I could be
I am a loser geek, crazy with an evil streak
Yes I do believe there is a violent thing inside of me
She is just a girl, she is doing what she can
She dances topless
When she's not playing in her band
Such a pretty girl, happy in an ugly place
Watching all the pretty people do lots of ugly things
I think it's getting better for the two of us
Yes I think it's getting better almost everyday
I could give a damn for what those people say
All I want to do is lose myself in your room
All you want is just a slow fuck in the afternoon
I still see those scary guys when I am all alone at night
I kiss the ring you gave me then I swing with all my might
I think it's getting better for the two of us
I think it's getting easier for you and me to agree
That the white men in black suits
They are diminishing
Yes I think they are diminishing
Yes I think they diminish you and they diminish me
I think they are diminishing
You know sometimes I hear those people say
Yeah she takes a bus
Over to the north side of the city
She goes to work stripping for the rich white men
All the words they give her
Make her feel so soft and pretty
She wears them but they never seem to fit
Yes I think it's getting beter for the two of us
Yes I think it's getting better in the worst way
I refuse to be afraid of almost everyone
Afraid of all the things they do or the words that they say
Let's live the way we want to live and hope they go away
I really hope they go away
I really hope they find a nice place
I hope they find it somewhere
I hope they go away
I can still hear all those people say

now good ole 2004 Diana doesn't touch everclear with a ten foot pole.
  |


<< Home
Laying the foundation for grown-up fairy tales since November 2001.

My Photo
Name:
Location: Boston, Massachusetts, United States

Nerd. Collector. Haiku Writer. Knee sock wearer. Umbrella holder. Polaroid taker. Photobooth sitter. Casual gamer.

LINKS
Fiction, Photography & Poetry / David Frost prints / Green Tea / MAF / N&N? / 1FaceLife / Justin Why / Rainy Days / Angels in Alcatraz

SUPPORT DIY
My My / Persephassa / Freckle Wonder / My Paper Crane

ARCHIVES
November 2001 / December 2001 / January 2002 / February 2002 / March 2002 / April 2002 / May 2002 / June 2002 / July 2002 / October 2002 / November 2002 / December 2002 / January 2003 / February 2003 / March 2003 / April 2003 / May 2003 / June 2003 / July 2003 / August 2003 / September 2003 / October 2003 / November 2003 / December 2003 / January 2004 / February 2004 / March 2004 / April 2004 / May 2004 / June 2004 / July 2004 / August 2004 / September 2004 / October 2004 / November 2004 / December 2004 / January 2005 / March 2005 /


Powered by Blogger Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com

Site Meter





< ? bostonites # >