& its high speed

7/4 shoreline ~ broken social scene

"while you're walking away,
i will try to get through,but you've gotta know the lies,
from the lies they told you.
if you try to do it all,
it all will leave you,
if you try to steal the beat,
the beat will steal you."

movement, this song has such a feeling of movement to it. i turn it up often when i'm driving, the song builds on itself, becoming stronger, almost becoming a surge. then the chorus seeps in, breathy vocals, on the cusp of building back up again. it reminds me of desire, of passion, and of the spun out feeling you get when there is energy and electricity between two people.

it also reminds me of drives up the coast, the windows rolled down all the way, the smell of the ocean and the waves wisping through my hair, through the interior of the car, and through my thoughts. i miss when i used to do that, just get in the car and drive beside the water. it used to be such a part of my existance, the source of release and relief of just about anything. a part of me will always be very in love with being near the shore.

tied to a night they never met

lover's spit ~ broken social scene (featuring feist)

"all these people drinking lover's spit,
swallowing words while giving head;
they listen to teeth learn how to quit,
to a night they never met.

you know it's time,
that we grow old and do some shit;
i like it all that way."

early mornings with music stuck in my head, and the smell of coffee brewing in the next room. these are stolen moments when words criss-cross and light up my fingertips, while dreams still in their feigned disguises remind me of my hopes and fears. i discovered this song in a found mix, it was hidden amongst the familiar and unknown, the way most beauty is. it reminded me of an afternoon, a saturday, working at tower in chicago. there was this girl who was visiting from new york, and we had one of those conversations usually shared with those people you trust your soul with. but sometimes strangers have that ability to peel back the surfaces, don't they? she laughed and half-whispered a moment shared with a boyfriend she'd recently lost, and i listened. she asked about this band, and i told her i'd only heard them once, in a bookstore in portland, and how the boy behind the counter with the pale blue eyes had told me the name. she bought everything i recommended, laughing at how i now held a secret of hers, so she might as well take back with her the things i sang along to. i have no idea what her name was, but i wrote her into something last night. and this song played, repeated, and played again.