Wednesday afternoon synthpop dirge...

The Magnetic Fields
“Either You Don’t Love Me Or I Don’t Love You”
The House of Tomorrow [EP] / Merge / 1999*

(* Originally issued as a 7” (1993) and as a CD (1996) by the Feel Good All Over indie label.)

Lyrics:

Lost roads and towns of which nobody’s found the name
All the children drowned and there’s no one around to blame
Lost roads and towns left to wilder in seed and snow
As the sun goes down that’s where I'd like to go

Every time you feel wonderful, baby, I feel bad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah
When you remind me of all the good times I feel sad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah

You and me in the waiting room of a disused railroad station
Scavenging for a few antiques, we’ll make a fortune just have patience
If we find an old signal box you can write your dissertation.

Every time you feel wonderful, baby, I feel bad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah
When you remind me of all the good times I feel sad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah

Postscript:  Coincidentally, I’ve been listening to this song while thinking about the impending conclusion of my ten-year marriage and haunting Kensington’s railroad station and antiques district as the sun goes down on West Howard Avenue.  And oddly, a friend of mine called up this afternoon and we talked a bit about his dissertation on rhetoric.

So right now my slice-of-life experiences resemble a tag cloud for a Magnetic Fields song lyric.  Swell.

Sunday night indie pop heaven...

The Magnetic Fields
“The Village In The Morning”
Get Lost, Merge (1995)

This song sounds distorted and garbled, like it’s being played from an underwater boombox.  That’s not just the way it sounds in the YouTube clip; it’s also the way it sounds on the album.  The chorus is sublime.

Lyrics:

Outside the rain is coming down
Inside it’s warm and dry
You’ll never find a cab uptown
so why not stay the night?
Why don’t you call in sick tomorrow?
Let’s sleep the day away
I’ve got pajamas you can borrow
Let’s take a holiday

You can’t leave the village in the morning
when the radio writes poetry for avenue pi
You get tangled in the wheels of old queen river
and you can’t find the breath to whisper goodbye

Why don’t you stay until the weekend?
It should clear up by then
As your resolve begins to weaken
we’ll become such good friends
And you could stay until the summer
and we can sleep through spring
And I can telephone my drummer
and have her get your things

Why don’t you stay until we’re old
and fall in love with life?
Why don’t you stay until we’re ghosts?
We’ll only seem to die...