Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Go-Betweens are a canonical example of a band that can (or could) do no wrong, in a certain sense: they're the sort of band I can imagine being boring, but far too intelligent to ever go down a poor artistic path. As romantics in popular song go, they are most likely unsurpassed. But sometimes, the words a bit more than I can handle; they haunt me by virtue of their contrast to my life. On listening to them, at an intuitive level I know the spirit of the song - gentle, loyal, and suggestive of an infinite reservoir of emotion - is what a part of me is made of. If I could put a structure to the feelings I've accumulated over the decades, they would probably sound like what I'm hearing. The melody feels like home, and when I hum along, the song becomes my own. All fantastic, all beautiful, but! There's no one for me to sing it to. While every endeavour of the heart suddenly seems conceivable, all I can do is expectantly sigh.

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