I Want The Life of A CD

I’m listening to Godspeed You! Black Emperor. It perhaps might be shameful to admit that I have no real clue of the song title – I mean, I have the album (Lift Yr Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven) and the track main title is Antennas To Heaven, but then there’s the sub-tracks/titles…

Meh, it’s hardly the point, or all that interesting delving into the things I don’t know. I’ve moved just a smidge past the point where the unknown, the uncertainty of not knowing what I want to know, is going to fray my edges (and here I’m not talking about song titles…) What I do know, the thing I keep thinking about, is that contary to previous stipulation, I’m really quite foolish. I said I’m not stupid and I believed it at the time, but I keep doing and saying things that proves otherwise and that… That really is fraying the edges.

I think that maybe I just want too many things, and I forget a lot of the time that there are reasons – good ones – that I should stop wanting these things, that I should just stop. Which could be a defeatist attitude. Maybe it’s just realistic. I don’t know.

The worst thing is, I don’t even care anymore that I don’t know. 

Listening to Rats by The Black Heart Procession. It’s the first track from the forthcoming album Six (due for release early October if my sources are correct, and currently pre-order sales are being taken by new record label Temprary Residence ).  I’ve just ordered a copy of their first album (1), which will complete my BHP discology until Six is officially released and I get a copy of that, too. Not bad all things considered – every album except The Spell had to be sourced from overseas so I’m quite pleased with how little time – and money – it’s actually taken to do so. Now I just have to work on Scout Niblett and Shearwater. And… well, lots more. Eh, wanting things – at least CD’s … well, they just come and they sing.  🙂

Hey now, that would be a nice life… if all you had to do was come and sing.



About Satellite for Entropy

My thoughts are fish, all swimming about and prone to scattering swiftly. Some of them are pretty but not all of them are gold. Some have teeth; some travel in gangs and with a single school of thought; some are haphazard loners, darting about the place randomly and to no obvious purpose. But they're all slippery little suckers. Sometimes, I get lucky and find myself with a good grasp on one, long enough to remember what it looks like before releasing it back into the wild. View all posts by Satellite for Entropy

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