I started this post over a year ago and I’m not sure what it was originally about, but with leisure time and forced hiatus from social networking* (this doesn’t count, even though I know it auto-posts to bookface), I have the chance to finish it and hit “publish”. My original post items are in blue. Tobias Fünke joke.
*My holiday reading stack has included this month’s Atlantic, which puts effbook on the same list as cars for encouraging human tendency and preference for alone-ness, which can
sometimes often devolve into loneliness.
So having no idea what this post was originally about, let’s look at robyn c. April 2011:
She was a few years over 27 (see title), but still able to appreciate a pint and a song about heartbreak and wanderlust.
She had the following listed songs on a mix she carried around in her pocket:
- Oooh Child – The Five Stairsteps
- Old Haunts – The Gaslight Anthem
- Hearts are Down – The Beauties
- Common People – Pulp
- Never Ending Math Equation – Modest Mouse
“I’m the same, as I was when I was six years old, and oh my god I feel so damn old.”
Common thread? Songs about… getting older, feeling better, looking back, annnnd initiating the rich to the ways of the blue collar (Did Jarvis predict this contemporary subculture, or create it?)
This song is spectacular. The National – Mansion on the Hill
And that’s as far as robyn 2011 got. She did credit her title track (see below) as she always does. My guess, in this self-anthropological dig? The post was started sometime in January, nearish to her 30th birthday, when she was filled with heartbreak and wanderlust, and then added to in April, when she was on the cusp of something new (and eventually heartbreaking and wanderlust inspiring), and never finished as it seemed too far in the past and too unimportant to revisit and complete.
Good time waster. Back to the 40 pages of a killer manuscript I have left to edit.
Title credit: Trains Across the Sea – Silver Jews