Musik Poste: "Puzzle With Missing Pieces - Songs for Charlie Crews"
A couple of weeks ago, I put up a poll asking who I should make a fanmix for. Many days, changes of track listings and picspams later, I present the winner.
---
This is, of course, a companion piece to "May God's Love Be With You - Songs for Dani Reese". There is a slight, slight, slight bit of shippiness in the middle, but it's mostly gen and lovely and Charlie and fun and full of fruit.
Track 5 is a cover of the Nine Inch Nails song "Hurt", but I'm sure you knew that. So here's to Charlie - Zen philosopher, oh-so-redhead, solar/orange entrepreneur and avenger of past regrets.
PUZZLE WITH MISSING PIECES | Songs For Charlie Crews
Things are falling into place
But so much time goes to waste
---
DOWNLOAD
{MegaUpload, zip, mp3, 74mb}
---
{1.}
SETTING UP A FIGHT | Dust Brothers
Instrumental
The best thing about being out of jail wasn't the fruit. It wasn't the air, or the birds or the trees. It wasn't sleeping with gorgeous girls who had seen his mug on TV, or eating cupcakes and Pop Tarts at 2am. It wasn't buying Bentleys or teasing his partner, it wasn't Ted's face when he filled the house with pomegranates (although that was pretty close). These were all fantastic and fun and decadent and awesome, but for Charlie Crews, the fact he could do any of these things by his own choosing was the greatest gift of all.
But when the sun hung low in the sky and his thoughts swung back to 1994, everything dimmed and shifted and he was right back behind bars again, and there he feared he'd stay - until he stopped mopping up water and turned the faucet off, until he chose to end it and he had nothing to fear but the lack of anything to do but wait for the night to turn into morning.
{2.}
ELVIS COSTELLO | Pills & Soap
You think your country needs you
But you know it never will
The people who stood by him could be counted on one hand.
Mom. Connie. Ted. Probably Dad. Two he'd met so long after the fact they probably didn't count, and his father's thin disdain seemed to target Charlie's chest like a scarlet letter. But he was there to pick his only child up from jail, leaning against the car he'd upgraded to along with his soon-to-be-wife, not saying anything but handing him a thick folder filled with every newspaper clipping mentioning the Crews' since the day the Seybolts were murdered.
"You make that time count, son. You do what's right." So Charlie went back to the force, and played at Detective all the while finding his fingers were being used to show more and more allies and even more enemies.
{3.}
TILLY AND THE WALL | The Freest Man
You try your hardest
To rewind the tapes
"Y'know, sometimes your negativity indicates your inner self, Reese."
"Right."
"You're making the same mistakes over and over and over, and what do you have to show for it?"
"A partner who makes no sense what-so-ever?"
"Exactly! And you know what you do with that partner? You embrace him, and allow him the freedom to allow you the freedom to feel safe."
"And I think you, Crews, are full of bullshit. Second-rate, buck fifty paperback Zen bullshit."
"Huh."
"But you know what? You're free. And that's...admirable."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Yes it was."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was."
"Crews. I swear."
"Freedom, Reese!"
"I'm. Going away now."
"Freedom!"
{4.}
BEN FOLDS FIVE | Narcolepsy
I know it seems that
I don't care
They sit side by side, across and down, always in a pattern of this or that and always in some sort of silent sync. He's behind her when she thinks he isn't, he's down the phone when she's inches from a bar door. He's open and she's closed, when really it's the reverse because he wants nothing more than to tell her to stop screwing her life up like he knows he seems to be doing without really trying. She's the screw up and he's the bad-cop-made-good, and it's a bizarre mish-mash of withering looks and protective, solid arms.
Side by side, across and down, he seems like he's half a world away to her but he's really so wide awake, it frightens him.
{5.}
ROCKABYE BABY! | Hurt
Instrumental
"Do you have trouble sleeping?" asked The Psychiatrist.
"No," said The Patient, and she wrote he was lying.
"Are you laughing at other people's jokes?" said The Psychiatrist.
"Yes," answered The Patient, and she drew a sad face next to the question.
"Are you dreaming of anything at all?" The Psychiatrist hesitated to ask.
"Yes. Of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot. And whether pigs have wings."
The Patient seemed furrowed and gentle, and The Psychiatrist finally understood, recommending to his superiors that he return to duty immediately, finitely.
{6.}
JOSH RITTER | Good Man
You¹re not a good shot
But I¹m worse
The playground when he was ten was cobbled with itchy sand that seemed to be made of granite. He skinned his knee, impossibly, it seemed, and was helped to his feet by a ten-year-old boy named Tom. They clip-clopped towards high school, college, the academy; marriages, children; bars and barbecues by a pool out the back of a house that would become so soiled by blood he thought he'd skinned his knees, impossibly, again.
He told this story to a man who had two years to serve for his mistakes. Selfish, superficial mistakes that had masked a ten-year-old boy who Charlie felt he would have had better luck with in life, if it had been him, and not Tom, who'd helped him up in the playground that day.
{7.}
BELL XI | I'll See Your Heart & I'll Raise You Mine
"Will you be my Kris kindle?
Will you be my better nature?"
She watches him from her desk, and he's fighting with the photocopy machine. Putting the paper in the wrong section, hitting the buttons until they all scream red and she tries to pull the corners of her mouth down but they keep springing up.
There's a bag of oranges at her feet from his farm, that he "picked myself!" and brought to her with a huge smile on his face. No-one had ever brought her fruit before - her face remained solid but her mouth was speechless, but she knew he got it. Got that she could thank him without words, that she was getting him and working him out like the New York Times crossword on a Friday or Saturday, and that was okay, he had all the time in the world and they were joined together because he did get it and that's why he brought her oranges.
The photocopier let out a shriek and she watched him run a hand through his hair. So she got up and offered him her own oranges, just in the form of a paper jam.
{8.}
THE MONKEES | As We Go Along
And so many highways
To travel upon
The sun hits the porch, and he decides to take a walk. Up over hills and through ravines, he eats an apple and breathes the air because it's as fresh as it can be in Los Angeles and even the smog feels sweet. The city sprawls below him, the rocks that have lived for so much longer than he had, and the fruit in his hands that felt alive crunched under his teeth. The life that money bought - an empty house and an orange farm and a renewed faith in self - sits above him; but for now, he looks out over California and wants to kiss the sky.
{9.}
THE FRAMES | Rise
With all these words and promises
We couldn't keep
Her face was smooth and make-up free because it was a Tuesday and she didn't wear any on days she'd been to the gym. He could see her in high school, Miss Whatever Whatever, with no zits and a short skirt and he wonders where she turned wrong. It was probably at the hands of that fucker, a strong-veined rich kid who'd turned to drug dealing because he had nothing better to do, and she? She was the most gentile of tough girls, so she went down that path because of the same reasons but different ones and her hair felt so good under his palm.
She touches his cheek with her nose, because she can't bring herself to lean in any further. He's so red, so fair and clean like he'd never seen the sun and for twelve years, she supposed he hadn't. There was so much left to learn from this man who was all parts open and every part closed, who gave her enough information to make is seem like he was free as a freakin' bird but he instigated this - whatever this was - and she knew he was so scared underneath.
They lay together but didn't sleep, because there was nothing in dreams but the sounds of their lies.
{10.}
FRANCIS DUNNERY | Good Life
Here's to your lover
And here's to my wife
They'd been trying for a baby, a friend for Rachel and her brother. When he'd been dragged out of the house by his arm, his collared shirt torn a little by the hand of a police officer that who had sat in the pews with his family when he and Jennifer said "I do", she cried and cried and took test after test as if to will a baby into existence. For him, for her, for validation, for the sake of their marriage and to make it worthwhile.
When she filed papers, he wasn't surprised, but he cried anyway. She hadn't given up on him, he knew, but them, and after twelve years he worked that out and the sun shone as he walked across the car park to freedom. The fighting and the pranks and the horse where only his way of willing a relationship into existence, but under it all, he knew that tomorrow belonged to their lives apart.
{11.}
FOO FIGHTERS | Home
Some of them living
Some of them dead
She'd been so small in his arms, her father screaming about retribution on the television. He imagined fire and brimstone, Kyle Hollis behind bars and a crucifix on the wall of a cell while this bright light of a girl mourned another father's loss and thought nothing of it when she fingered him in a holy rage.
Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you.
He hung up the phone and let the voice of Dani's father wash over him, and he wonders if he knew. If he knew he had baby Rachel in his arms, the same body only bigger that he'd held twenty years ago as a priest, so unlike the man she knew as Dad, blessed her and gave her the gift of a name.
He whispered that name now, and let the fires inside him grow even larger.
{12.}
GOTYE | Puzzle With A Piece Missing
All doors are open
All the doors are open
The clues, the lies, the angles, the truth. The sun reflecting off his sunglasses, the five foot whatever of his partner beside him. Links and Google searches, Ted plowing into financials and the lack of furniture that created an echo throughout the palatial house. Fruit bills larger than most annual incomes, a fridge void of the makings of a casserole, only a fruit salad. Learning, dividing and deducting, calling in favours and the meaning of Zen.
Charlie Crews was everything he was, but most of all, he was free.
---
DOWNLOAD
{MegaUpload, zip, mp3, 60mb}
---
Did you get it? Charlie's free, Zen and zany! BUT. With a dark side. Oh, Charlie.
Permission to collapse into bed with a bung knee? Permission granted!
---
This is, of course, a companion piece to "May God's Love Be With You - Songs for Dani Reese". There is a slight, slight, slight bit of shippiness in the middle, but it's mostly gen and lovely and Charlie and fun and full of fruit.
Track 5 is a cover of the Nine Inch Nails song "Hurt", but I'm sure you knew that. So here's to Charlie - Zen philosopher, oh-so-redhead, solar/orange entrepreneur and avenger of past regrets.
PUZZLE WITH MISSING PIECES | Songs For Charlie Crews
Things are falling into place
But so much time goes to waste
---
DOWNLOAD
{MegaUpload, zip, mp3, 74mb}
---
{1.}
SETTING UP A FIGHT | Dust Brothers
Instrumental
The best thing about being out of jail wasn't the fruit. It wasn't the air, or the birds or the trees. It wasn't sleeping with gorgeous girls who had seen his mug on TV, or eating cupcakes and Pop Tarts at 2am. It wasn't buying Bentleys or teasing his partner, it wasn't Ted's face when he filled the house with pomegranates (although that was pretty close). These were all fantastic and fun and decadent and awesome, but for Charlie Crews, the fact he could do any of these things by his own choosing was the greatest gift of all.
But when the sun hung low in the sky and his thoughts swung back to 1994, everything dimmed and shifted and he was right back behind bars again, and there he feared he'd stay - until he stopped mopping up water and turned the faucet off, until he chose to end it and he had nothing to fear but the lack of anything to do but wait for the night to turn into morning.
{2.}
ELVIS COSTELLO | Pills & Soap
You think your country needs you
But you know it never will
The people who stood by him could be counted on one hand.
Mom. Connie. Ted. Probably Dad. Two he'd met so long after the fact they probably didn't count, and his father's thin disdain seemed to target Charlie's chest like a scarlet letter. But he was there to pick his only child up from jail, leaning against the car he'd upgraded to along with his soon-to-be-wife, not saying anything but handing him a thick folder filled with every newspaper clipping mentioning the Crews' since the day the Seybolts were murdered.
"You make that time count, son. You do what's right." So Charlie went back to the force, and played at Detective all the while finding his fingers were being used to show more and more allies and even more enemies.
{3.}
TILLY AND THE WALL | The Freest Man
You try your hardest
To rewind the tapes
"Y'know, sometimes your negativity indicates your inner self, Reese."
"Right."
"You're making the same mistakes over and over and over, and what do you have to show for it?"
"A partner who makes no sense what-so-ever?"
"Exactly! And you know what you do with that partner? You embrace him, and allow him the freedom to allow you the freedom to feel safe."
"And I think you, Crews, are full of bullshit. Second-rate, buck fifty paperback Zen bullshit."
"Huh."
"But you know what? You're free. And that's...admirable."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Yes it was."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was."
"Crews. I swear."
"Freedom, Reese!"
"I'm. Going away now."
"Freedom!"
{4.}
BEN FOLDS FIVE | Narcolepsy
I know it seems that
I don't care
They sit side by side, across and down, always in a pattern of this or that and always in some sort of silent sync. He's behind her when she thinks he isn't, he's down the phone when she's inches from a bar door. He's open and she's closed, when really it's the reverse because he wants nothing more than to tell her to stop screwing her life up like he knows he seems to be doing without really trying. She's the screw up and he's the bad-cop-made-good, and it's a bizarre mish-mash of withering looks and protective, solid arms.
Side by side, across and down, he seems like he's half a world away to her but he's really so wide awake, it frightens him.
{5.}
ROCKABYE BABY! | Hurt
Instrumental
"Do you have trouble sleeping?" asked The Psychiatrist.
"No," said The Patient, and she wrote he was lying.
"Are you laughing at other people's jokes?" said The Psychiatrist.
"Yes," answered The Patient, and she drew a sad face next to the question.
"Are you dreaming of anything at all?" The Psychiatrist hesitated to ask.
"Yes. Of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot. And whether pigs have wings."
The Patient seemed furrowed and gentle, and The Psychiatrist finally understood, recommending to his superiors that he return to duty immediately, finitely.
{6.}
JOSH RITTER | Good Man
You¹re not a good shot
But I¹m worse
The playground when he was ten was cobbled with itchy sand that seemed to be made of granite. He skinned his knee, impossibly, it seemed, and was helped to his feet by a ten-year-old boy named Tom. They clip-clopped towards high school, college, the academy; marriages, children; bars and barbecues by a pool out the back of a house that would become so soiled by blood he thought he'd skinned his knees, impossibly, again.
He told this story to a man who had two years to serve for his mistakes. Selfish, superficial mistakes that had masked a ten-year-old boy who Charlie felt he would have had better luck with in life, if it had been him, and not Tom, who'd helped him up in the playground that day.
{7.}
BELL XI | I'll See Your Heart & I'll Raise You Mine
"Will you be my Kris kindle?
Will you be my better nature?"
She watches him from her desk, and he's fighting with the photocopy machine. Putting the paper in the wrong section, hitting the buttons until they all scream red and she tries to pull the corners of her mouth down but they keep springing up.
There's a bag of oranges at her feet from his farm, that he "picked myself!" and brought to her with a huge smile on his face. No-one had ever brought her fruit before - her face remained solid but her mouth was speechless, but she knew he got it. Got that she could thank him without words, that she was getting him and working him out like the New York Times crossword on a Friday or Saturday, and that was okay, he had all the time in the world and they were joined together because he did get it and that's why he brought her oranges.
The photocopier let out a shriek and she watched him run a hand through his hair. So she got up and offered him her own oranges, just in the form of a paper jam.
{8.}
THE MONKEES | As We Go Along
And so many highways
To travel upon
The sun hits the porch, and he decides to take a walk. Up over hills and through ravines, he eats an apple and breathes the air because it's as fresh as it can be in Los Angeles and even the smog feels sweet. The city sprawls below him, the rocks that have lived for so much longer than he had, and the fruit in his hands that felt alive crunched under his teeth. The life that money bought - an empty house and an orange farm and a renewed faith in self - sits above him; but for now, he looks out over California and wants to kiss the sky.
{9.}
THE FRAMES | Rise
With all these words and promises
We couldn't keep
Her face was smooth and make-up free because it was a Tuesday and she didn't wear any on days she'd been to the gym. He could see her in high school, Miss Whatever Whatever, with no zits and a short skirt and he wonders where she turned wrong. It was probably at the hands of that fucker, a strong-veined rich kid who'd turned to drug dealing because he had nothing better to do, and she? She was the most gentile of tough girls, so she went down that path because of the same reasons but different ones and her hair felt so good under his palm.
She touches his cheek with her nose, because she can't bring herself to lean in any further. He's so red, so fair and clean like he'd never seen the sun and for twelve years, she supposed he hadn't. There was so much left to learn from this man who was all parts open and every part closed, who gave her enough information to make is seem like he was free as a freakin' bird but he instigated this - whatever this was - and she knew he was so scared underneath.
They lay together but didn't sleep, because there was nothing in dreams but the sounds of their lies.
{10.}
FRANCIS DUNNERY | Good Life
Here's to your lover
And here's to my wife
They'd been trying for a baby, a friend for Rachel and her brother. When he'd been dragged out of the house by his arm, his collared shirt torn a little by the hand of a police officer that who had sat in the pews with his family when he and Jennifer said "I do", she cried and cried and took test after test as if to will a baby into existence. For him, for her, for validation, for the sake of their marriage and to make it worthwhile.
When she filed papers, he wasn't surprised, but he cried anyway. She hadn't given up on him, he knew, but them, and after twelve years he worked that out and the sun shone as he walked across the car park to freedom. The fighting and the pranks and the horse where only his way of willing a relationship into existence, but under it all, he knew that tomorrow belonged to their lives apart.
{11.}
FOO FIGHTERS | Home
Some of them living
Some of them dead
She'd been so small in his arms, her father screaming about retribution on the television. He imagined fire and brimstone, Kyle Hollis behind bars and a crucifix on the wall of a cell while this bright light of a girl mourned another father's loss and thought nothing of it when she fingered him in a holy rage.
Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you.
He hung up the phone and let the voice of Dani's father wash over him, and he wonders if he knew. If he knew he had baby Rachel in his arms, the same body only bigger that he'd held twenty years ago as a priest, so unlike the man she knew as Dad, blessed her and gave her the gift of a name.
He whispered that name now, and let the fires inside him grow even larger.
{12.}
GOTYE | Puzzle With A Piece Missing
All doors are open
All the doors are open
The clues, the lies, the angles, the truth. The sun reflecting off his sunglasses, the five foot whatever of his partner beside him. Links and Google searches, Ted plowing into financials and the lack of furniture that created an echo throughout the palatial house. Fruit bills larger than most annual incomes, a fridge void of the makings of a casserole, only a fruit salad. Learning, dividing and deducting, calling in favours and the meaning of Zen.
Charlie Crews was everything he was, but most of all, he was free.
---
DOWNLOAD
{MegaUpload, zip, mp3, 60mb}
---
Did you get it? Charlie's free, Zen and zany! BUT. With a dark side. Oh, Charlie.
Permission to collapse into bed with a bung knee? Permission granted!