Saying you love someone or something is pretty easy, right. It’s always kinda rolled off the tongue without a second thought. There are lots of things that you “love” or you think you love, well… until you don’t anymore. The whole thing might just fade away. It can be pretty fleeting.
I’ve got a long list of things I “love” (certainly much long than this)…
I love yellow corn grits with parmesan cheese and maple syrup.
I love condiments of all kinds (but dijon mustard most of all).
I love everything bagels with cream cheese and lox from Murray’s Bagels.
I love pork chops.
I love the color brown.
I love mid-century modern design.
I love releasing music by people who I respect.
I love Neil Young, Belle & Sebastian, Bert Jansch, Unwound, Grouper, Lungfish, Polvo, Pentangle, Sun Ra and some others.
I love living on the east coast because the beach is only a short drive away.
I love my parents for giving me the freedom to become exactly who I wanted to be even when they knew I was probably making some wrong decisions at the time.
I love my wife for her never-ending patience and support. She’s also lots of fun to spend time with.
I love my sisters even though I don’t see either of them as much as I’d like.
I love New York. Growing up here was amazing and I love that we’re raising our kids here too.
I love visiting New Mexico because of how quiet it is and how big the sky is and how great the food is.
As I’ve matured I realize that ‘feeling love’ goes well beyond just being able to assign a some words to people and things. In the last five years it’s taken on meanings that I never really considered. It has more to do with feelings that are much harder to define, that are latent and perhaps unmeasurable. It’s a feeling that creeps up on you, reveals itself and even surprises you. You feel it deeply in your chest or it just keeps you awake at night.
I love my friends but I didn’t realize how much until they moved 5,000 miles away. New York has become an infinitely lonelier place without them.
I love my wife but certainly never felt it the way I did after watching her give birth to the two single most incredible dudes in the world. She’s also an amazing mother.
I love eating out but so much more when the whole family goes out to dinner and finds a dark, cozy corner to enjoy being with each other.
I love sleeping but never the way I do when one of my little guys climbs into bed with us and falls asleep on my back.
I love watching Oliver play games but much more when he loses and with a big smile he congratulates the person that just beat him.
These instances just keep multiplying for me. This kind of love just continues to grow. It creeps into every pore. It’s hard to run away from. The best few words that I could find to describe it has already been called out in @jjuuddggee’s post and comes from the title of most recent Arthur Russell album “Love is Overtaking Me”. I think what illustrates it best for me is when I look into my guys’ room and see them playing together quietly. They are slowly passing toys back and forth, coloring on the same piece of paper, the older one showing the younger how something works, helping to turn something on or open it the right way. They are sharing a series of moments. Looking in on them I see them falling in love with each other. It’s that simple. They don’t know it yet but it’s growing. Love is overtaking them too. Love is overtaking us all.
It’s November 29th and the long holiday weekend we traditionally spend with people we love has just ended, it’s cyber Monday in the world of sales and it’s my assigned day to Write About Love. Like many of my co-workers I am not sure where to begin with such a huge subject. Certainly I could write about people I love, places I love , music I love, the love I share with Matador employees for Belle And Sebastian, Scotland, potatoes, Mogwai, Bordeaux and a love of dogs. The love a dog is one particular type of love that I’ve been lucky enough to experience at various points in my life since childhood . At this point in time it’s this adorable pup.
Like the other dogs I’ve known, he loves unconditionally with an unwavering loyalty and devotion. His seemingly boundless happiness enhances a good mood and erases a bad one. His desire to please and retrieve is insatiable, his intelligence and intuition remarkable and his sense of the absurd completely uproarious. Coming home to a welcoming dog never loses it’s appeal, sitting by a fire with a dog at your feet listening to Belle And Sebastian feels like a perfect moment, driving through the countryside with your dog while loudly singing along to If You’re Feeling Sinister feels like another. I love all these moments with my dog and better still he does too! Dogs rule and loving them is easy.
All knowledge, the totality of all questions and all answers is contained in the dog.” – Kafka
Earlier today, someone representing a band I’ve not heard of before (that’s not meant as a diss, btw, there’s plenty of good bands I’ve not heard of) forwarded the following bit of correspondence. If you’re in a band, please be advised that a) “email@example.com” is not my email address, b) I have no family in Columbus (though I have great respect for Ron House) and c) I would never in a million years tell anyone “you have a great sound and seem to really capture a crowd.” Thank you.
Greetings from the East.
I caught (NAME REDACTED) in Columbus last night. I’m not from the area, just visiting family for the holiday.
I’ll cut to the chase.
You’ve got a very impressive band in your house.
They have a great sound and seem to really capture a crowd.
Anyway, this is not my typical protocol for a business-related matter, but I didn’t get a chance to meet the band before they left the show last night.
I’d love to schedule a meeting, and talk about getting these guys a 2 album record deal.
Can you pass me their information along with any contracts related to (NAME REDACTED) & the band?
If I don’t hear back, I’ll try to call the phone number listed on your website. Is that info up to date?
Like most of the Matador employees that have written about love over the past couple of weeks, I’ve really struggled to know what to write here. At first, as miserable as it sounds, I couldn’t think of anything to write. What is love?! Then I suddenly had too much. There are of course the people I love, places I love and many ‘things’ that I love, but sitting down and thinking about it all was far more of an emotional journey that I had anticipated. I nearly wrote about Potatoes, as recommended by Mr Braithwaite, but I hope this is a more sincere interpretation of the subject and a better read than my love of mash and roasties.
New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down.
I love some pretty obvious stuff. I love New York City. I love my battered brogues that I can’t bring myself to throw away. I love sleeping. I love record stores and the excitement in the pit of my stomach when I find something I’ve been searching for. I love ATP. I love sushi an unhealthy amount. I love my job and some of the insane situations I’ve found myself in with the threeridiculousmen I refer to as my bosses.
But that is all one type of love. Then there’s being INLOVE (or at least thinking you are), but the less said about that the better. Then there’s the love that you don’t realise is so strong until it’s out of your life.
Love Will Tear Us Apart.
I didn’t think it was possible to not realise how much you love someone until they’re gone. But I found that out the hard way earlier this year. That is real love and it will stick with you forever.
Its a pretty weighty subject to be handed for all the mata-world to see, and there’s a lot of things I love, but I decided to try and just stick to one subject – the humble mixtape.
Sure, it’s often seen as a sign of love or affection itself, but the creation and/or dissection of a mixtape is the thing I love the most. The early days consisted of planning cassette tape mixes based on song length (written by pencil on paper, of course), plotting the running order and fitting as much music as possible to each side of a 90 minute cassette, then programming the triple (!) disc CD player in my bedroom and over-analysing the finished product. These days all that’s been replaced by the itunes mix CD and now mp3 playlists, which sadly loses the design and tactile elements, but the best thing about these mixes is of course the music. Because of that I thought I’d share some videos of the songs that have featured on mix tapes that I’ve received or created over the years.
- It’s the variation which you just don’t get anywhere else that makes these mixes so great, I never thought I’d ever be sent anything like this, or have to try and work out what someone’s trying to tell me (or not) through song, but that’s all a part of it I suppose.
Ladies & gents, head over to the Matador Store right now to get your hands on these limited-edition (200 of each) “Matador at 21″ posters a few of our good friends and collaborators designed specially for “the Lost Weekend” & our coming-of-age.
James McNew – Brooklyn-based musician and artist. Bass player, multi-instrumentalist, and occasional lead singer in Yo La Tengo. Also well known for his four-track home-recorded project Dump. (16.5″ x 24″)
Mogollon – very well known NYC design firm, does work across the fields of fashion, music, editorial, etc., from Madonna to Om Records to Tush Magazine. Also designed a Matador label T-shirt http://www.mogollon-ny.com (18″ x 24″)
Sincere apologies to Raymond Carver for the headline. Man, if I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me, “what’s the deal with that Courtney polaroid?”, well, I wouldn’t have enough money for a Torchy’s Taco. So imagine my surprise when Nils told me I’d been assigned to write an essay on the subject! To be perfectly frank, I’m not sure what would’ve possessed Courtney to deface the walls of a perfectly good Seattle home, but keep in mind, she also agreed to appear in “200 Cigarettes”. So her judgment hasn’t always been super sharp.
All kidding aside, there have been a handful of collisions w/ Ms. Love and myself during Matador’s storied history. The above snapshot — culled from a photo session for Newsweek — was probably provoked by any number of nasty comments I probably composed in the pages of Conflict, CMJ or the New England Journal of Medicine. Shortly after Courtney left a rather profane rant on our answering machine (she seemed to take great exception to Chris Lombardi’s outgoing message — our fearless founder shouting the praises of “Matador recording artists, U2″ while “I Will Follow” blared away in the background) we were introduced on a Los Angeles sidewalk by a rock biz colleague. She mentioned something about our forming our own personal branch of MENSA, which I took to be a huge compliment — until I later learned she’d used the same line on Evan Dando, Wings Hauser, former Raiders QB Todd Marinovich and most distressingly, newsman Irving R. Levine.
The name calling and rancor eventually came to a halt — mostly because Scott Weiland provided so much easy copy over the years. But this exercise has proven rather instructive for me. Just what exactly do I have against a very wealthy multi-talented woman with whom I have so very much in common? Our similarities are uncanny ; we each survived marriages to far more successful, talented musicians. Both parties’ “loose cannon” reputations stand in the way of major Hollywood parts. Courtney’s made the transition from rock icon to fashion blogger…and so have I! So in the spirit of the impending holiday season, I’m declaring a moratorium on the Courtney-bashing. From this moment onwards, if you want to take a shot at her, you’ll have to get thru me first. Wayne Gretzky had Dave Semenko, Michael Jordan had Charles Oakley, George W. Bush had Karl Rove. Since none of those gentlemen are available to assist Courtney Love, now she’s got me.
By truepanthersounds on Wednesday, November 24th, 2010
I gave my heart to music when I was 7 years old in San Jose, California. My family had just arrived in America from Russia. Our first home was a one-bedroom apartment across from the projects on Cherry Street. I still remember my mom unpacking the box of records she’d brought from Russia and setting up our JCC-provided turntable. Some of the records were children’s stories, some were classical music but it was the state-issued bootlegs of rock & roll that caught my attention. I’d listen to those Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney and Aquarium (Russian rock band) albums and feel this new bubbling joy. I’d roll around on the floor laughing hysterically just from being so overwhelmed by feeling. My mom gave me the Definitive Illustrated Encyclopedia of Rock for my 10th birthday. I pored over its pages, memorizing the artists, drawing stories from their photos and imagining the significance of the song titles found in their singles charts. I loved that book, and I loved every song I could track down from it. To top it off, I didn’t have to fear loving these songs. They wouldn’t leave, they wouldn’t make me feel hurt, alien, lost or confused. Every time I listened they would give more than they had before, unpacking stories and feelings, an endless amount of gifts that rewarded commitment. You could pass this love along, a song played for a friend, a shared experience could bond you. Even as I got older and continued to be afraid of committing to loving and trusting people, I knew I could at least share love with them through music, we could experience a fearless love together by cherishing something that was beyond ourselves. We could find ourselves and our feelings for each other in our love for a song.
“I was feeling so sad alone then I found a friend in this song I was singing. I was feeling like a nothing inside then I found it all in a song.” -Girls “Darling”
Before really knowing what love was, I learned the language of love songs. For better or worse, every loving relationship I’ve had has used those songs as a watermark. Does spending time with this person feel like the lyrics to “Ring of Fire”? Is that good or bad!? Is this feeling of watching my girlfriend sleep what Curtis Mayfield felt in “I’m So Proud”? And to summon Curtis again, does the breakup summon the same fire as “7 Years”? I don’t really cook, I can’t sing, write songs or poems, can’t paint, I express my emotions with the hyperbole laden maturity of a 10 year old, honestly. The only certain way I could find to say what I meant to someone or understand it myself, was in sharing a song. No fumbling words, no uncertainty or compromise. What is there in our world that’s harder to express than love? Hate, fear, joy and anxiety are easy. But love is all those things and more. It’s so massive, so powerful. My sister who is one of the people I love most in this world recently turned 10 and got her own email account and we now send songs and itunes links back and forth to each other. Her fearless love of the people and world around her, despite experiences that would’ve crippled another child inspire me every day. Sure on one hand the exchanges are pedagogical, but I like to think there is something else at play. That in sharing the songs that speak to us we’re building a common language to understand our familial love for each other. I guess that impulse runs in our blood. Anyhow, it’s more effective than emoticons.
“Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.”" -Hannah Arendt
Love is not democratic. Reflexively, the job of the love song is not to build communities. Morality has no place in a love song. The love song’s purpose is to give two people the tools they need to understand this fearsome thing they have between them, being in love puts you in conflict with the world outside of that relationship- all the elements that challenge and disrupt that already destabilizing bond. Aristotle said that love is a “single soul dwelling in two bodies”. The perfect love song helps us understand this alien inhabitant that bonds us together with another/disrupts our lives.
I’ve often tried to understand why despite being such a sap I’ve been so drawn to angry music and its various political & social structures. In times in my life, as with a lot of young peoples lives to a certain extent, when love fails to show up, lets you down or leaves you behind, there’s a certain comfort in building ad-hoc communities based around rejection and disillusionment. It’s ironic that Belle & Sebastian are the inspiration for this way too long ramble then. Because in high school, at the apex of submersion into hardcore and punk, I found a band that spoke to our need to love. That despite being a little strange and frustrated teenager love wasn’t something to fear. It carried riches and experiences that were invisible to those who push love away. It hurts, dies, comes back, changes heats up and cools down but the moments that it burns inside of us define our lives. Life is hard. People you love, family members, friends and other loved one screw you over, betray you and lie. But succumbing to fear and letting your past pain block your ability to embrace love is giving up life’s greatest treasure. I’m eternally grateful to B&S for reminding me of that.
My heart belongs to music because it’s the best way I’ve found to process the love that has come and gone in my life, and the best vessel i’ve found for sharing it. It binds my family together, and reminds me to stay open to love that comes in the future. Music is my lifelong bleeding-heart companion, and every day I feel grateful that my life is based around sharing and treasuring its bounty. Maybe it’s not the most sophisticated way to live, but at age 28, it might be a little too late to change. Oh well…LET IT BLEED!
It’s been nearly a full calendar year since Mission Of Burma provided the Empire or Garden States with what the social crusaders like to call “teaching moments”. Thankfully, the drought is nearly over, with new shows confirmed at Maxwell’s on January 28 and Brooklyn’s Bell House on January 29. Tickets are on sale now.