#106
08.21.10
Waiting for the Moon to Rise - Belle & Sebastian
I'm a total sucker for the twee chamber-pop of Belle & Sebastian, and have been for a long, long time. They were one of the two total concerts I was able to attend during the 8 years I lived in Philly. Tiffinie and I caught the show at the Tower, and it wound up being one of our favorite evenings together.
Most every song by B&S is sung by the inimitable Stuart Murdoch, though some real gems on early B&S work feature the lovely Isobel Campbell (cellist) on vocals. {Perhaps you've heard some of her later solo work? She is known for a silky, whisperlike delivery, but her albums with Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees / Queens of the Stone Age are darkly gorgeous.} However, on this track the super shy violinist (really - you should see her actively avoid the spotlight during live shows!) Sarah Martin wrote and performed the vocals on Waiting for the Moon to Rise off their 4th album Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like A Peasant. Even though she ends up singing a-la Isobel, I think it isn't on purpose. I sense the shyness in her delivery here, and really am drawn in to the song all the more for it.
I really like how the calm of the song matches the calm of this amazing moonrise over the Turnagain Arm. I caught it around 10:45 p.m. this past Thursday after attending the Anchorage screening of "Ashes of American Flags", a documentary / collection of Wilco performances in 2008, at the Bear Tooth Theater. Very, very sadly I was meant to attend their performance that year here in Anchorage at the Moose's Tooth, but instead spent the day fishing with my father-in-law in Resurrection Bay, and missed it. I suppose I traded one memory for another.
This song is on my favorite "night driving" playlist... and not-so-ironically, the playlist was created for late night drives along the very same Turnagain Arm depicted in the photograph.
All the way back home
I'm telling you I caught the sun
Creeping up behind my shoulder
Another day's begun
I was following a trail
I'd never been along before
Chasing darkened skies above me
Looking like the spring
Like the winter
And the morning
If there's a place I want to go
Then I'll be there with you
Because in my dreams, the things I'm wishing for
Keep coming true
Now a new day comes
Clears the darkness out of sight
And the shadows that were sleeping
Come and dance beneath the light
And I'm trying hard to hide
Keep the sun out of my eyes
Close them tight and now I'm waiting
For the moon to rise
Don't try to say to me
That this was never meant to be
Because the days are long where I come from
The next few days I'm free
There's a train I want to catch
But it won't leave here for a while
Until darkness fills the eastern sky
And streetlights stretch for miles
Through the spring
And the winter
And the morning
One final aside: I smile internally at the realization of how tightly focused my interests really are. It seems like every circle of an interest or attraction I posses intersects with other small circles during everyday occurrences. Though this may be hard to follow, I'll try to illustrate.
I had just seen one of my musical heroes, Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, in the concert documentary film at the Bear Tooth Theater. Tweedy can come across as somber or morose, and it turns some people off. But I happen to know he suffers from chronic migraine headaches since he was young, and I think that suffering comes out in his work. I'm absolutely attracted to his work, and perhaps for no greater reason than that knowledge. (But come on, he's a gifted lyricist, and that band just moves!)
I too have suffered chronic migraine headaches since I was 15, with some of them surpassing 30 consecutive days of misery. In a tie for First Place amongst the triggers for my migraines is Bright Light (Heat being the other). For as much as I've enjoyed the past few days of Sun here in Anchorage, it just wrecks my head if I don't have my Paul Smith oversized sunglasses ready to go. Of course, I never allow that to happen... I've been dealing with this for so long that I always have eye protection with me.
In any event, to try and close off this tangential romp through a briar patch... I can really relate to Sarah's lines in this song dealing with trying to hide from the Sun, and Waiting for the Moon to Rise. It is The Reason I love Winter in Alaska so much... long stretches of dark that last for months at a time... a soothing salve to an aching brain.
And that's how headaches, the moon, Wilco, and Belle & Sebastian can coexist nicely within the recesses of my mind.
Perhaps I will extend Mr. Tweedy an invitation to come up here and live in the subarctic with us? Nah... if physical pain is the impetus for his music, with all apologies to him, I'd prefer he remain in pain. As for me? Eh... I suppose I could give it up.
CCE
