We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves
Timely!
Hi all,
On this very strange, disconcerting day, I wanted to post a playlist. Sitting here at my desk, I realized that my most listened to album this month was John Maus' "We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves." Released over ten years ago, it transports me back to my time living in New York, newly dating Stacy, and drinking enough deli coffee to incite cardiac arrest.
I still owned a proper stereo with an amplifier, though I'd left my record collection in Montreal and instead used an iPod that stored my substantial digital collection. During those years, I relied mostly on Pitchfork for recommending new music, and a handful of friends who I'd describe affectionately as snobs. The music I remember loving during this time was muddy and haunted, but also upbeat—a soundtrack that could easily be played at an intense volume that wouldn't prevent close conversation at a bar, but loud enough to make your ears ring.
I spent a great deal of my time in NYC walking, nearly running, from place to place, through subway tunnels and up and down stories of stairs. I used to jog every day along Riverside Drive till 101st street, then back to my apartment in the mid-70s. Once I saw Tina Fey, in a winter coat, walking her dog. I think so, anyway. I always wore headphones linked by knotted cord to my pocket, and iPod. I palmed it, for comfort. You never look lost with headphones on.
I lived across the street from a famous bakery, and there was always a lineup stretched from the door down the block by 10 AM. Sometimes I'd wait in line after a run and get only a coffee, which seemed to surprise the tourists clamoring for the oversized cookies hot from the oven. I didn't get very much sun in that apartment, but it was newly renovated for the landlord's daughter, and had more light than average. My desk was near a glass door and a small balcony that I rarely sat on because the railing inspired fear I'd slip through the generous space between the bars.
I worked on music until nighttime, when Stacy would let me in the side door at The Beacon Theatre, where she worked. I saw Leonard Cohen, Magnetic Fields, and countless other shows, standing in the back, feeling more important than when I'd been on stage at the same venue. I loved that access, and anonymity.
This album was a favourite of mine all those years ago, yet until this morning, I don't think I had fully read (certainly hadn't retained) the title. I know it by the cover, its purple hue, the lighthouse. So, here we are, all of us, marching into the future, pitiless, and forced to censor ourselves.
Favorite tracks:
-Sara
I refuse to watch any news today. Instead filling it with Thai food, -10 degree (brrrrrr 🥶) walks, and Slowdive on my headphones. I’ll throw on your recommendation next!
::edit:: While looking up John Maus, I didn’t know he was from Minnesota! Sooo cool!
Trying to look at life with open arms and open eyes, and not a bitter heart. A humble wordsmith, yes, that’s me who refers to themselves as the humble wordsmith. I need to figure out my own life outside of what’s going on in the world, and one step at a time I have been. Still sober with a new attitude, healthier body, and soon to be healthier mind lol. Let’s take the good with the bad with a grain of salt. Maybe those saltier moments in life will flavor the good ones when they come.