if the dizzying highs don't subside overnight
Emily Haines is beautiful like a slap in the face. Most of the night it was only her hunched-over-the-piano profile in view, blonde wisps falling over her face. But in between songs, sometimes, she would spring up from the bench, walk in a tight circle, turn languidly to face the crowd. And her face! The dark intensity of her eyes and brows, the powerful delicacy of her features - it was nearly overwhelming.
"Knives Don't Have Your Back" is my unparalleled favorite album of 2006. I don't understand why it keeps getting dismissed as being bleak or even boring - unbelievable! There's so, so much there. From the first opening bars, a melancholy minor key, it's enrapturing, gorgeous. I play it almost every day now, over, over, over. Add to the favorites-of-all-time list? Possible.
We waited outside for the show, but early enough to be under the arches and not out in the rain with black-haired boys and their shiny shaking umbrellas and clove cigarettes. The coldness bled upward from the stones and into the soles of my red feet. In front of us was a girl with platinum curls, a huge head of curls, and everyone in skinny jeans. Mine were grey.
We sat in the chairs set up in front of the pews (only three rows worth). The walls are all teal, but if you looked closely, you could see the cracks in the plaster. All the stained glass windows were dark and ashen; the feet of a few saints were the only parts illuminated by the rusty lights outside, the rest of the bodies kept in shadows. Emily's parents were married there.
Throughout the show, scenes from "The Saddest Music in the World" played on three blank white canvases propped up off to the side behind Emily's head. The whole night, I tried not to be distracted by the flickering (stop) repeat (stop) of the floating, smiling faces and little droplets of snow (light).
