musical notes & nonsense
my addiction for dandy warhols has been sated. kinda. i got my fix. i got a supplier. his name is J, and other than the fact that he lives 3,000 miles away, he is a very generous dealer.
it's not his fault i'm hooked. that fault lies with C, really, when she gave me my "welcome to williamsburg" cd back in early february. it's awesome. like, a lot awesome. however, it jump-started a need for dandys like i have never before experienced. i only had three tracks to devour, i was listening to "you were the last high" from welcome to the monkey house on repeat, and nothing was going to stop me. how could it? with lyrics like this?
so maybe you loved me
but now, maybe you don't
and maybe you'll call me
maybe you won't
um. okay. so maybe they are a little simple. maybe i just broke up with somebody. what-EV-er. it speaks to me. anyways, i was mourning the absence of more dandys in my life to anybody who would listen to me, and J, always one with an ear for addiction, responds one night with, "you've been listening to THOSE three songs over and over again?"
well, sure. i mean. yeah. somebody is going to put the padding up on the walls for me, right?
"you need more. which albums do you want? i have them all. whatever. you're getting them all."
i didn't think too much of it. conversations with J tend to approach pillow negotiation time, which means sometimes i can't always distinguish fantasy from reality, although i guess for me that's not something that's exclusive to nighttime discussions. anyways. i didn't think about it, because people say happy lovely things like that all the time, and when do they really follow through?
i clearly underestimated this one.
this weekend, i received "Tunes for Amy! V. 1 and V. 2," discs which were packed with a grand total of 1,043 songs, or a solid 3 days of music. in addition to a full dandys collection (thankyouthankyouthankyou) i got addiction starter kits for blonde redhead, snow patrol, the brian jonestown massacre, mineral, and tosca. the mega mix compilation also included some serious old-school addictions, from tortoise to smashing pumpkins to nada surf to the verve to one of my favoritist velvet underground songs ever, "i'll be your mirror."
call me a sucker. but try these on for size:
i find it hard
to believe you don't know
the beauty you are
but if you don't
let me be your eyes
into your darkness
so you won't be afraid
i think maybe i could be happy if nico sang me to sleep every night?
in other happy music news, G, Y, and AB and i are going to see the gorillaz at the apollo in a few weeks and soon after, C and i are going to check out say hi to your mom at bowery ballroom. i finally got AB's ryan adams cd back to him, but i am holding some music of G's hostage for a little while. i would share what it is but then everybody will want to borrow it, and that just wouldn't be fair to him. and i would like to be fair, if only because G has born the heavy, heavy, heavy brunt of most of my lunacy the past month or two, and yet he still somehow manages to find some redeeming quality about me and hang around, for which i can only be thankful and not ask any questions. maybe it's because i always let him eat half my food. hunh.
last thoughts, lifted from "equus" by blonde redhead, off of misery is a butterfly:
allow me to show you
the way in which i know you
i think you have just witnessed addiction being born ...
it's not his fault i'm hooked. that fault lies with C, really, when she gave me my "welcome to williamsburg" cd back in early february. it's awesome. like, a lot awesome. however, it jump-started a need for dandys like i have never before experienced. i only had three tracks to devour, i was listening to "you were the last high" from welcome to the monkey house on repeat, and nothing was going to stop me. how could it? with lyrics like this?
so maybe you loved me
but now, maybe you don't
and maybe you'll call me
maybe you won't
um. okay. so maybe they are a little simple. maybe i just broke up with somebody. what-EV-er. it speaks to me. anyways, i was mourning the absence of more dandys in my life to anybody who would listen to me, and J, always one with an ear for addiction, responds one night with, "you've been listening to THOSE three songs over and over again?"
well, sure. i mean. yeah. somebody is going to put the padding up on the walls for me, right?
"you need more. which albums do you want? i have them all. whatever. you're getting them all."
i didn't think too much of it. conversations with J tend to approach pillow negotiation time, which means sometimes i can't always distinguish fantasy from reality, although i guess for me that's not something that's exclusive to nighttime discussions. anyways. i didn't think about it, because people say happy lovely things like that all the time, and when do they really follow through?
i clearly underestimated this one.
this weekend, i received "Tunes for Amy! V. 1 and V. 2," discs which were packed with a grand total of 1,043 songs, or a solid 3 days of music. in addition to a full dandys collection (thankyouthankyouthankyou) i got addiction starter kits for blonde redhead, snow patrol, the brian jonestown massacre, mineral, and tosca. the mega mix compilation also included some serious old-school addictions, from tortoise to smashing pumpkins to nada surf to the verve to one of my favoritist velvet underground songs ever, "i'll be your mirror."
call me a sucker. but try these on for size:
i find it hard
to believe you don't know
the beauty you are
but if you don't
let me be your eyes
into your darkness
so you won't be afraid
i think maybe i could be happy if nico sang me to sleep every night?
in other happy music news, G, Y, and AB and i are going to see the gorillaz at the apollo in a few weeks and soon after, C and i are going to check out say hi to your mom at bowery ballroom. i finally got AB's ryan adams cd back to him, but i am holding some music of G's hostage for a little while. i would share what it is but then everybody will want to borrow it, and that just wouldn't be fair to him. and i would like to be fair, if only because G has born the heavy, heavy, heavy brunt of most of my lunacy the past month or two, and yet he still somehow manages to find some redeeming quality about me and hang around, for which i can only be thankful and not ask any questions. maybe it's because i always let him eat half my food. hunh.
last thoughts, lifted from "equus" by blonde redhead, off of misery is a butterfly:
allow me to show you
the way in which i know you
i think you have just witnessed addiction being born ...
posted by Amy S. Choi at 6:08 PM
6 Comments:
um... 1,043 songs? can i borrow it?
1,043 songs! of course you can. 'tis yours at poker, my love.
you have the greatest friends...reading your blogs make me long for some.
im at work...longing.
no need for longing. you got me ... like white on rice, bubba.
1,043 songs meticulously categorized and labeled. A glorious manifestation of organizational prowess. A little creepy? Yeah a bit, but who is interesting without being a little weird?
And yes choi, thank you for feeding me but you have more redeeming qualities than just your refrigerator.
aw. *blush*
would it surprise you to know that i had a moment of panic when i saw that mc solaar was categorized under hiphop, r&b, AND world? i made quick work out of that one.
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