They’re tearing up streets again, they’re building a new hotel
The mayor’s out killing kids to keep taxes down

And me and my anger sit folding a paper bird
Letting the curtains turn to beating wings
Wish I had a socket set to dismantle this morning
Just one pair of clean socks, and a photo of you

When you get off work tonight, meet me at the construction site
And we’ll write some notes to tape to the heavy machines
Like “We hope they treat you well. Hope you don’t work too hard.
We hope you get to be happy sometimes.”
Bring your Swiss Army knife and a bottle of something
And I’ll bring some spray paint and a new deck of cards

Hey I found the safest place to keep all our tenderness
Keep all those bad ideas, keep all our hope
It’s here in the smallest bones, the feet and the inner ear
It’s such an enormous thing, to walk and to listen

And I’d like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing
In a room near a truck stop on a highway somewhere

You are a radio, you are an open door
I am a faulty string of blue christmas lights
You swim through frequencies, you let that stranger in
As I’m blinking off and on and off again
We’ve got a lot of time, or maybe we don’t
But I’d like to think so, so let me pretend

These are my favourite chords, I know you like them too
When I get a new guitar, you can have this one
And sing me a lullaby, sing me the alphabet
Sing me a story I haven’t heard yet

Around 2002/2003, the music I listened to suddenly became inextricably linked with people, making it impossible for me to appreciate some songs by virtue of how they made me feel about an individual or group. This has made listening to music difficult, at times.

I’ve come to learn that it’s a strange problem to have, and considering the way I used to feel about music, it’s a problem I rather wish I didn’t have. Most people don’t think that way about music, or if they do, it’s relegated to a song, or an album. Every single song I listen to now makes me think of someone. Sometimes that’s painful. At the best of times, it’s exactly what I need.


About Joel Crary

Joel Crary is a 30'ish 21st century writer living in Vancouver, British Columbia. He enjoys films, mostly. View all posts by Joel Crary

One response to “2002

  • barbelith77

    When I saw “These are my favourite chords” on my Twitterfeed, I laughed out loud. I think I’m one of maybe five Americans who knows who the Weakerthans are and they’re one of my favorite bands. I seem to be in an odd Canadian phase in my listening, but that’s neither here nor there.

    Associating music with people, places and situations is something everyone who really listens to music does. I can’t listen to Foo Fighters anymore; it brings up my second marriage too strongly. It happens. That doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable, but it happens.

    Strangely enough, the song “Aside” by the Weakerthans helped me transition out of a horrible relationship to the wonderful one I’m in now.

    “Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives/And drowning in the pools of other lives.”

    As this new relationship was starting up, I made a playlist of all the songs that reminded me of her. Some of them, out of context, make no sense. Some of them I can’t even remember the context for. But you can hear it. Go to http://www.playlist.com and search for a playlist called “little and perfect.”

    Obssessive? I don’t know. I’m too close to make that call. What do you think?

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