Tags: the pretenders


don't. get. me. wrong.

that last entry has me re-listening to the pretenders. i do this every so often, as with roxy music, talking heads, the bands that i forget really ARE that good (as opposed to, say, new order, who are always in the background of everything i listen to, ever, with the knowledge that i will always have guilt trumping regret and there will always be true faith), and i forget how BEAUTIFUL the last minute of "don't get me wrong" is.

i want to be in a dark room, with a black shirt and a red tie, and i want sweaty drunk cute hipster girls with choppy haircuts to raise their drinks and dance to this, to the jangle of guitar that really only snakes in at the end.

Don't get me wrong,
If I split like light refracted,
I'm only off to wander
Across a moonlit mile.

_stadtkind_ (9:17:46 PM): god why are the god damn pretenders so good
sool (9:17:50 PM): i don't know!
sool (9:17:50 PM): i was thinking this today
sool (9:17:53 PM): while at home depot
sool (9:18:00 PM): bc they are always played at the strangest places
sool (9:18:04 PM): home depot and truck stops
sool (9:20:04 PM): and all the contractors with fat asses wish no one was around so they could dance a little bit

(LJ-ify your IMs before pasting!)

Don't get me wrong,
If I fall in the mode of passion
It might be unbelievable.
But let's not say so long,
It might just be fantastic
Don't get me wrong.

when i was helping out and doing the overflow classes at mississippi state, one of my students, the cute one, tall, dark hair, eyes far too big for her to know what to do with, tiny little ass that made my world change every time she'd walk in a room and drawl "ruuuuussssss", and one morning she had "brass in pocket" on her ipod. i had to turn her into something inanimate for the rest of her time in my class. i believe i imagined she was a desk lamp.

i have been listening to a lot of crap that wants to be this. this band, opening for the editors or something, called monsters are waiting, tries to be chrissie so much, and fails and then tries to be the cardigans. so much so i was misinformed into thinking it WAS the new cardigans-regrouping.

fuck that. fuck this new school. at least for a minute. it takes a sense of security to say "whatever you are doing can wait. this is where i remember my heart being."

can ANYONE listen to "brass in pocket" without scarlett hotness johansson's atonal voice and perfect fucking lips wrapping around mymymymymyimagination cause i.....

and really, i mean, chrissie hynde in and of herself is the ultimate indie girl, with the best haircut. even now, she could kick some friday night indie rock party ass.

maybe when music gets boring, and everything sounds the same, it's time to go back to things that don't suzan has her pere ubu. i'll be honest, the roxy music album on the drive home today sounded like nothing so much as lipstick-smudged perfuckingfection. and right now i think chrissie hynde sounds like salvation.