Saturday, November 28, 2009
This is what we long for: building weak walls in creaky floors
And going to leave while they become debris and windows and doors are left crumbling
This is what we long for: awkward waltzes on kitchen floors
And going to sleep on sands of the beach, just the waves to wipe our sleepy eyes
I don't know much about Ghost Mall. They sent us an e-mail. They call themselves a "ramshackle pop band". They like comic books and, apparently, sponge baths - that's what their MySpace says. They're from New York. They sound like they're from New York. Their songs feel rusty but comfortable, kind - like a friend's handshake and the promise to see you later; to get you through the day. "Let's save the world. Let's save the world. That's why we do this. " As if they're constantly trying to jolt you, make you move, wake up, do something. And if extending a sweaty helping hand is what it takes for you to start living, they'll offer it to you. They'll do that. They'll mutter words of encouragement (- Listen, we can do this together. But you need to be a part of it, too. That's the point we're trying to make here.) "Simple songs won't save your soul, they'll just fill you up with some false hope. And I'm not asking, I'm TELLING you: there's something you need to do." You can imagine yourself 30 years from now, all old and wise, sitting in this dusty, rickety chair by the fire , and thinking of these words. Wishing you'd taken these guys' advice. And suddenly you know that from now on and for the foreseeable future you will use these songs again and again as some sort of periodical reminders to do that something, no matter what it is. Not waste another minute, not feel lazy, not take things for granted. You need that reminder. Perhaps not every day. Just on bland evenings such as this.