Monday, September 16, 2013
I saw Land of Talk open for Broken Social Scene back in fall 1998. I was transfixed and obsessed with them from that moment forward. Their sense of rhythm and melody, Elizabeth Powell's beautiful yet broken voice, and the emotional transparency of the music just overwhelmed me. They songs had me in a rapture and I couldn't go to sleep without finding their music. If I was smart I would have asked if they had their cd at the merch booth, but since I didn't even know the band's name, I went home and looked up the bill for the show, rather than ask a human amongst the sea of people there at the venue.
I found every song from the EP they'd release the year prior on blogs, with the exception of a couple, which I could only find live versions of. All My Friends was one of the ones I couldn't find, it was also the one song I couldn't get enough of. It had possession of me, F*bomb in the chorus and all. I was conflicted about wanting to play the song all the time, because the inclusion of the swear word may have been artistically sincere when they wrote it, it's still profane, and I believe in being respectful and appropriate. It's not something I want little kids singing along to, and in general, I have spent the majority of my life with little kids within earshot, and I treasure their innocence, largely because mine was spoiled, and I know what I missed.
The song, much like the moment in my life when I first heard it, put me in the mind of what it's like to be in college, aloof, held up by the support of the rogues gallery of friends and acquaintances you accumulate from one semester to the next. Bad decisions and influences make the rounds, and codependency grows like weeds. It's a circle game, and I did my best not to get too caught up in it, but once people catch feelings and start coupling off, the pull strengthens and you're bound to go down if you're hand in hand with someone. Make of it what you will. One things for certain, when you have good company, the energy of nosedive sometimes feels like a carnival ride, and this song represents that. It makes you want to accelerate even though it's telling you to drive careful. With friends like these... In the end it falls on you to make the right choices. Friends are great for support, but life is sand in the hour glass. The only thing that can support that sand is the enclosure, and we all know that glass is fragile, as is friendship. It's not for the careless.
"F***ing around, pretending there's a problem. Figure it out."
at 4:41 AM