THIS is why i am head-full. this is why i need one of a small handful of people on the other end of the phone to let me sort this shit out to them. why? because i've been doing this music writing bullshit since i was 18 (17, actually, if we count the patti smith thing i wrote in some zine), and i have never, EVER, desperately avoided reading reviews of an album or needed to take notes or been woken up in the middle of the mother fucking NIGHT to scribble down shit as i have been with the fucking yeah yeah yeahs "show your bones" piece. like, it's going from journalism to obsession, and it's totally actually transcended on a horizontal level what i started out to do. it started out as "this album is good BECAUSE it is what the maps/y control combination suggested would happen, and NO ONE GETS IT BECAUSE FEVER TO TELL WAS JUST MAPS TO MOST PEOPLE AND THEY FORGOT THAT Y CONTROL WAS THE SAME SONG, LARGER ANGLE".
and then it's fucking sploded from there. my. god. i started a tirade on it in the car with richy and lauren last night. prom queens and existentialism and left eye burning down andre rison's house and GOLD LION IS BURNING MAN FOR THE WOUNDED HEARTS CLUB and all this shit and you know what?
if this ever fucking forms, it's going to fucking cement this album as my fucking album of 06, hands down. i was bitching about needing something that was SO personal to me that it couldn't be shared, and believe me there's no amount of stimulants and 3am chatter that could unwravel what i see in my head with "show your bones".
like, the indie kids won't like it. the dance kids won't like it. the rock kids won't like it. the mainstream dumb media i.e. ent. weekly and rolling stone/spin fucking LOVE it because it's on a major label, but they don't "get it", not on an emotional level.
and i don't want to talk about the genius fucking zimmer guitar work or wtfev. it's the karen o show, really, and that annoys me but this is like the haunting of some bullshit, me trying to get this thing written.
i am giving myself today to try and live with this some more, see what else comes trickling out. because if i keep living with this fucking ghost of a god damn NOVEL of an article, it's going to crush me and overwhelm me and then, come november, all i'll be able to say is "oh shit show your bones? yeah i fucking LOVED that album. i lived in it".
and then i'll start twitching and foaming at the mouth and shrieking "fits around me SO TIGHT oh oh fits around me SO TIGHT oh oh fits AROUND ME fits AROUND MEfitsAROUNDMEfits!"
and we don't want that.
i'm fucking SERIOUS. i always get told that part of the reason this journal is of any use to ANYONE is when i get high and mighty and emphatic on music.
yeah yeah yeahs. show your bones. you probably won't like the album very much. because you're not me. and i could TRY to explain to you, conceptually, what i've superimposed on top of this...but, um...yeah.
one more day, and then i'm fucking inducing labor on this fucker.</p>
that scream at the end of "art star"? THAT'S ME. RIGHT NOW.
yeah yeah yeahs: art star (from the yyy ep)
i am giving you this because if you, like myself, am in dire need of just doing the fucking YOGA TAI CHI MAI TAI WTFEV of fucking SCREAMING at karen o's stupid, stupid BRILLIANT ASS and her dumb, dumb GENIUS LITTLE RECORD, here you go. oh, also it works to relieve non-yyys related stress, too.
yeah yeah yeahs: let me know (show your bones bee side)
this is all i'm putting up from show your bones. this can be released into the ether, because it's not on show your bones and doesn't fit in with MY concept of the album.
and YES, to laurenalexis, i DID just say "i have the facts and i'm voting Y for YEAH YEAH YEAHS".
oh. my. god.
this is what happens when there's a stillborn baby in my brain.