I’m a Dreamin Man (i guess that’s my problem)
a short time ago i got Neil Young's Harvest Moon by a happy mistake courtesy of Avalanche Records. i had just walked along a few streets with someone* very dear to me through the rain. she let me shelter under a broken umbrella as i hugged and closed my jacket during the short, sharp shower. tried to make it last like a musical ride but goodbye came a' comin' and goodbye it was.
i had a belt of scotch at home by the raido i lay and listened to at night, and a bottle or so of wine from some time before; during the waking (although unnaturally waking) hours so often spent alone as others slept. some records would be fitting with it tonight especially. i felt the year ending; the past eight months being counted cleared and crowing for me to spend them wisely over the next couple of crucial weekk - important. i didn't care if my pockets were empty.
my top five records to buy from Avalanche on a splurge: (i) Neil Young's Harvest Moon, (ii) Ryan Adams and the Cardinals' Jacksonville City Nights, (iii) Laura Marling's 7'' single Ghosts, (iv) Ryan Adam's Gold, (v) Radiohead's the Bends, a record just as much hers as it was mine.
by the time i got out, the rain had stopped and water slushed down muddy stepd towards the station where trains came and went. i remembered a few long moments before i had backtracked up Buchana street. a charitable man stopped me and i signed up and we made small talk about the weather as we sheltered. he said it would clear up, pointed towards the sun. i guess he was right.
that night i sat as planned, listening to the quieter records, enjoying Harvest (Moon) the most. took me a while to realise it was not Harvest as i had ordered, but hey: it gripped me like warm water in an endless pool at night like a womb. and when it was over, evaporation. and. i. wascold. again.
next day, back to Avalanche to buy the LP for Harvest and the sleeve for Harvest Moon. i listened to the album on the way in, felt like i was in an open top chrome machine somewhere purring slowly down an open road, down a summer highway, under a dark, overcast and grey sky with it's beauty and wonderous winter-like infinity stretching further than the eye could ever see. maybe it was the solemn nature of the songs, maybe it was the choral echo of the vocals and the instruments, maybe it was the scarecrow amongst a prelude to a storm on the cover or maybe it was the mood matching the weather when Matthew bought it. whatever. but it was there and i held and cherished it; held and cherished it all.
*she should be preserved like a monument.