Sunday, May 3, 2009
MGMT, a summer (almost) too late
Well, I'm not sure how wise it is to read too closely, or closely at all, into the lyrics for the immortal (clichéd term, but I think they've earned it) Time to Pretend, but these days, wondering how long I can make it in the technicolor jungle of Williamsburg / Greenpoint, I do find myself missing Mom, Dad, sis, and the silences and ruminative rambles of home, even if they did take place on not-too-far city streets, on the way to clubs and bookstores that led, I guess, to NYC. Good for MGMT to address, however couched within a tongue-in-cheek song, the need to leave behind home and family for, um, vomit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The Magic Man
Walking up Rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud in Paris’s 10th arrondissement in mid-October, I saw a man who was working in the doorframe of Ô Lieu ...
-
Walking up Rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud in Paris’s 10th arrondissement in mid-October, I saw a man who was working in the doorframe of Ô Lieu ... -
On my 43rd birthday, my cousin Victor took me for a walk in Les Alpilles, the “little Alps” in the south of France near Avignon. He sugges... -
This past year, I’ve been listening to David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (which is a hell of a ...
No comments:
Post a Comment