ohpleaseohpleaseohplease.
DITTODITTODITTO
Willow ,'Lies My Parents Told Me'
There's a lady plays her fav'rite records/On the jukebox ev'ry day/All day long she plays the same old songs/And she believes the things that they say/She sings along with all the saddest songs/And she believes the stories are real/She lets the music dictate the way that she feels.
Powell's blog #4: Humbert Humbert meets soulmate Serge Gainsbourg.
Powell's blog post #5: All Full Of Tears And Flapdoodle
Dude! Feelies and Paul Auster. Maybe Raymond Carver.
Auster! Man, I wish I'd thought of that last night.
I did have a decent joke about Now Let Us Praise Famous Men and Vampire Weekend, with all the prep-school hipsters heading out to Californee, where the American Apparel is plentiful.
The Feelies set is over. I can die happy now.
Awesome (about the Feelies, not Scola death).
I wonder what the people in the other areas of the park think of Thurston's guitar playing.
I saw Pentangle play on Thursday night (and there's a sentence I never thought I'd be typing). They were awesome.