Micro Cuts

Micro Cuts

Hands are red with your blame
Megaphone screaming my name
Whimpers someone I should've loved
Souls weeping above

I've seen what you're doing to me
Destroying puppet strings
To our soul

Micro waves me insane
A blaine cuts in your brain
To sounds like forks on a plate
Blackboard scratched with hate

I've seen
What you're doing to me
Destroying puppet strings
To our soul



Now, I know that this doesn't really count as a post, but I'm conflicted at this point in my life right now. I mean, part of me wants to finish the dissertation and move on. Part of me wants to get past my hang ups for the thing, get a big fuckin' tattoo on my arm (or neck) and do whatever I feel like rather than doing what I know to be my future. Ugh, that sounds way more like complaining than it should...and the baby's crying. Gotta scoot!

MGMT

I've been listening to Oracular Spectacular lately...quite a bit, actually. It's a much better album than I had initially thought. The tracks "Time to Pretend" and "Weekend Wars" seem especially poignant in their forward-looking sense of nostalgia. That might seem to be a bit unrealistic, but I found them while listening to Cut Copy's In Ghost Colours and that's what I think...


As to the lyrics, I think it might be best to point out that "Weekend Wars" and "The Youth" are probably the most representative...


Evil is I, Yes to find a shore,
A beast that doesn't quiver anymore,
And we can crush some plants to paint my walls,
And I won't try to fight in the weekend wars

Was I? I was too lazy to play
Or paint or write or try to make a change.
Now I can shoot a gun to kill my lunch
And I don't have to love or think too much.

Instant battle plans written on the sidewalk
Mental mystics in a twisted metal car
Tried to amplify the sound of light and love.

Christ is cursed of fathers and mother
Might even take a knife to split a hill
Or even scare the children off my lawn
Giving us time to make the makeshift bombs

Every mess invested was a score
We couldn't use computers anymore
But it's difficult to win unless you're bored,
And you might have to plan for the weekend wars.

Try to break my heart, I'll drive to Arizona.
It might take a hundred years to grow an arm
I'll sit and listen to the sound of sand and cold
Twisted diamond heart, I'm the weekend warrior
My predictions are the only things I have
I can amplify the sound and light and love

I'm a curse and I'm a sound,
When I open up my mouth,
There's a reason I don't win,
I don't know how to begin.

"I was in this prematurely air-conditioned supermarket and there were all these aisles..."

...and there were these bathing caps that you could buy that had these kind of Fourth-of-July plumes on them that were red and yellow and blue, and I wasn't tempted to buy one, but I was reminded of the fact that I had been avoiding the beach.
~dj BC GlassBreaks

Really, the first song on Glassbreaks is the best; I mean, who doesn't love mashing up Philip Glass with the Beastie Boys. I know I love it!

But this isn't at all what I've really been listening to; the lyric just got stuck in my head. I've been listening to Karajan's deutsch grammophon recordings. I don't know, for some reason I seem to like his stuff for the modern composers, though he's nothing compared to Jordi Savall for the Medieval or Renaissance pieces I like to listen to as I write.