Can’t you see? It’s not me you’re dying for Now she’s feeling more alone Than she ever has before
I first heard this song when I was a kid, probably around eight years old, and even then I could sense the deep melancholy behind the lilting melody and vague lyrics. When I was a teen, I found out the story behind it, and I finally understood why the sadness in his voice felt more sincere than most other ballads I’d heard up ’til then. Even after all these years, it still has a profound effect on me whenever I hear it, and this orchestral version brings me to tears. It must be tough for your most popular song to be about such a tragic time in your life.
From Wikipedia:
On the album Ben Folds Live, Folds explained: “People ask me what this song’s about… I was asked about it a lot, and I didn’t really wanna make a big hairy deal out of it, because I just wanted the song to speak for itself. But the song is about when I was in high school, me and my girlfriend had to get an abortion, and it was a very sad thing. And, I didn’t really want to write this song from any kind of political standpoint, or make a statement. I just wanted to reflect what it feels like. So, anyone who’s gone through that before, then you’ll know what the song’s about.”
I remember the time you told me, “Love is touching souls.” But surely you touched mine ‘Cause part of you pours out of me In these lines from time to time
I was in the mood for some Joni today but I found this instead. The video was posted on my birthday, and how I wish I had found it that day when I really needed it. Nevertheless, I remain amazed by the phenomenon that is Rebecca Hall. She conveys more emotions in this nearly three-minute clip than some actors do in entire films, and she does so without dialogue, co-stars, or a conceivable plot. As stunning as the video is, though, I still prefer Joni to James and can’t help but wonder how different the tone would have been if it was filmed with the original vocals in mind.
It feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this video to come out. This is my favorite song off Mylo Xyloto, it references my favorite childhood icon, and the video stars an actress from one of my favorite shows.
The wait was so worth it. I mean, Antonio Thomas rides around in a stolen car and makes out with a guy* who jumps off buildings in a black hoodie. Coincidence? I think not. I’m just gonna pretend this is the happy ending the Misfits characters deserve, alright?
*The only thing that would make me happier would be if they got Iwan Rheon. Just saying.
For the past few years, Chuck was a constant source of joy in my life. It was something that appealed to my inner nerd and gave me hope that geeks have the potential for greatness. It introduced me to hundreds of new songs. It was the one show that my siblings and I all liked and anticipated week after week. It was what I would pop in the DVD player to pacify my newborn nephew and make him laugh. It was what taught my six-year-old niece the difference between heroes and villains (as she once exclaimed: “Chuck is funny and he helps people. He stops the bad guys.”). But as of last night, the show I lovingly obsessed over since episode one is over.
Chuck stayed on the air far longer than anyone expected it to, and was nearly cancelled more times than I can count. The budget was slashed, the schedule was screwed with, writers left the fold, and production quality required a constant suspension of disbelief. But I think there’s a simple reason why it bounced back time and time again: It had heart. The show was a love letter to fans and the geekdom they represent. Iconic guest stars reeled us in (Scott Bakula, Christopher Lloyd, Timothy Dalton, Chevy Chase, Gary Cole, Mark Sheppard, Tony Hale, Summer Glau, and Carrie-Anne Moss were some of my favorites), but what ultimately kept us watching was the love story of Chuck and Sarah. We all rooted for the geek to get the girl, and when he finally did, it seemed like they were destined for the perfect, picket-fenced life they both dreamed of.
But things don’t work that way in the Chuck world. Much like real life, things don’t go according to plan and there’s always a new obstacle to hurdle. Yesterday’s two-hour swan song was a shock to me because I was expecting a tidy happily ever after. Instead, Sarah lost her memory of the past five years, forgetting all about Chuck and the life they built together. I had some qualms about the amnesia plot because it seemed like a clichéd, soap opera cop-out. It was just a cruel thing to do. But it turned out to be the perfect device to remind us how far the show and its characters have come. By forcing Chuck to make Sarah fall in love with him all over again, we were given the chance to relive all the great moments from the past five years.
A scene from the pilot episode: “Chuck Versus the Intersect” (2007)
The ending of the series finale: “Chuck Versus the Goodbye” (2012) *This montage killed me. I was crying and laughing at the same time.
The finale may have ended on an open note, but it succeeded in doing the one thing I could always count on Chuck to do: It made me smile. I am so glad I had this show in my life, and I am grateful that the cast and crew were given the chance to end it with a degree of closure. For now, I’m holding on to the hope that we’ll see these characters again someday. There are so many more stories to tell.
And we could dance Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio
This is very creepy. And so adorable. I’ve never seen Ian Curtis look so happy before. Watch the original version to see all the little details they captured with the stop motion.
A friend of mine linked me to this clip of Carey Mulligan tearfully singing “New York, New York” in Shame this morning, and it made me emotional for reasons other than the actress’s pathos. The video brought me back to the days when I danced to this song with a makeshift top hat on my head, black cane in hand, and shimmery gold shoes that were two sizes too big on my feet. I thought about the summer I spent shifting between ballet and tap classes, like the overly ambitious little performer that I was at around six years old. It’s funny how drastically people can change.
Every time anyone came to our house, I would rush to slip on my costume before they could see me, then make a grand entrance down the banister of our stairs. I would dance and they would smile, amused, then I’d yell “You’re not paying attention!” when their interest eventually waned. I waited for applause every single day. I would practice for hours in front of the mirror, perfecting every foot position and heel tap, and dreaming of one day earning my toe shoes. I attended the dress rehearsals and showed off my so-called talent with a sense of confidence I no longer possess.
But on the day of the recital, I chickened out and feigned illness. To this day, I still don’t know why I gave it up so quickly or why my passions always seem to fade so easily. I gave up piano after two months. I gave up guitar after two years. I had no concrete ambitions as a teenager, had no goals to speak of by the time I turned twenty, and still don’t know what I want to do five years from now. Hell, I don’t even know what I’ll be doing tomorrow.
All I know is that I fall in love so easily with the simplest of things, from television shows to a song I hear once on the radio. I love it so much and so fervently that it consumes my every waking minute. Then one day, I wake up and that love is gone.
Maybe that’s why I can never commit to anything, or why I’ve never tried to forge any lasting relationships. Maybe that’s what you get when you burn too bright and live too fast. All I know is that sometimes I miss the music and the moves, but I can no longer stand being the center of attention.
Someone wrote an essay about me in my last semester of college as part of a writing assignment. She put to paper something that I’ve always noticed but never wanted to acknowledge. She said that whenever I open my mouth in a crowded room, people hush and turn their heads to listen. There’s a certain power in that kind of attention, but I can’t bring myself to seize it. I’ve been on a stage a few times since my ballet and tap days, but I haven’t danced since.
Sometimes I feel like I’m giving a different kind of performance, though. One with staggered choreography, multiple costume changes, and a progression that changes as I go along. I hope I can one day learn to master the steps.
And so she woke up Woke up from where she was lying still Said, “I gotta do something About where we’re going”
I thought I had gotten the hang of the semi-flex (a.k.a. endless) workday, but apparently I’m more tired than I realized. I woke up this morning to a pounding on my door and no recollection of why I was half-dressed in my fully lit room, with my laptop on and the faint sound of The Joshua Tree streaming from my beat-up iPod. Two days spent on a working holiday at the beach did nothing to soothe my senses and, after four months of scarce sleep, I finally clocked in a solid nine hours last night.
But why do I still feel like I’m running on empty?
It doesn’t matter what you did And if you did it like you’ve been told
True and everlasting–that’s what you want Don’t say no; your breakfast tears are gone
Resist or let go, you’re borderline withdrawn Down and unlit, from the bottom there’s a misfit Better than it looks, better than it looks
I played this song to death throughout December in anticipation of both my 23rd birthday (do you remember when 21 years was old?) and the end of 2011(it didn’t last that long). Though both events were a bit of a letdown, I’m using this song as a reminder that life is often much better than it appears. Happiness is a choice, and 2012 is my year to act on it.
I just heard this song in full for the first time. Not only am I completely hooked on the hypnotic video, I’m also blown away by the various emotions that the music and lyrics gradually build as the song progresses.
Forget the horror here Leave it all down here It’s future rust and it’s future dust I’m the fury in your head I’m the fury in your bed I’m the ghost in the back of your head
I have my own understanding of “Spanish Sahara”, but I can’t help associate it with the thing that introduced it to me months ago: Misfits. The first time I heard a portion of it in the show’s second series, I was mesmerized but a little confused since the lyrics didn’t seem appropriate for the scene. Man, was I wrong. Now that I’ve finished the third series, the song takes on a completely different meaning for me.
I feel a long grieving period coming on. On the plus side, at least I have a new set of songs from my Misfits playlist to console me.
