dear hole in my head through which the foul winds of winter blow,

they say i don’t need you. i beg to differ. without you, the wind would not whistle through in that musical way; it would become very hot and stale in here; nothing would leave or be let in. so i am told you are not only a benefit to me but here to stay. from you, things are allowed to leave that may have felt trapped; others are let in that may be unwelcome.

its hard to let things in during this kind of New England winter — or out. i’m inclined to never, ever leave the house. when i do, my body clenches up, my shoulders hunch and ache, my lungs hurt. i try to take long gliding strides but i keep slipping on the ice, so i pussyfoot.

an hour long walk through the world, walking gingerly and trying not to fall, knotted up in various forms of mild pain, is how i take my exercise these days. and i listen to music, using a small electrical device that pumps sounds through tubes, and i look for things on the ground and in the air, and always i hear the whistling of you, the hole in my head.

listening to music isn’t what it used to be, you know. now when i take in that which used to feed me, i am mainly only reminded that it did feed me once — the hunger for the old Leonard Cohen album, now sated, for example, is somehow lacking. but still in spite of the unwelcome perspective i now i have, sometimes music enters my life with that old alchemy when i am not looking. perhaps this is age; perhaps it is the new electrical devices that make it all so easy that nothing is precious anymore.

i think about this as i trudge through the March snow and stumble and wipe snow from my face. last night i woke during the Nor’Easter wailing outside to get a glass of water and then could not get back to sleep, realized that you, the hole in my head, had been cut off by a strategic cave-in, made worried lists in my steamed-up mind, wrote nonsense words on chalkboards, failed pointless tests — and music was playing the whole time. Not from my electrical device! this went on for about two solid hours until i finally collapsed into sleep from over-exertion.

here is a sampling of the music that was playing:

• Carol Brown by Flight of the Conchords — mainly just one verse and chorus, over and over.
• God and Suicide by Blitzen Trapper — a song i don’t know that well, so again, just the first verse over and over.
• Little Boy Ghost by me (new song in progress) — the whole song.
• Moonbeam Song by Harry Nillsson — mainly the melody, i don’t know all the words, but it builds so beautifully.
• Bridge by Lucy Wainwright Roche — just the chorus. of course, over and over.
• You Always Hurt The One You Love by the Mills Brothers – the best version ever. before the swingy beat comes in on the guitar. i enjoyed hearing it, with even the scratchy vinyl sounds.
• some weird classical music riff that repeated over and over — i think it was a Mozart phrase that was welded clumsily onto a Souza march, and never resolves. pure sonic hell.
• And Then..? by Miracle Legion, melding with the version that Winterpills (my band) has recorded for a Mark Mulcahy covers album.
• a troubling chord progression for a half-baked new song that has only a title: Three Drops of Blood.
• Queen Bee by Neil Halstead. that drum beat, the chorus — ‘what did you say, hey hey girl?’ — calming and also in my twilit mind unsettling. what DID you say, hey hey girl?all this, a soundtrack for midnight worry, midnight lists, midnight tests, while a storm carries on outside, more snow, filling in all the holes, and come morning, the wind still whistled with conviction through my porous head. i need you.

Philip

hadley, ma, march 2, 2009

Winterpills are on tour by the way, you can catch them (and me!) in Austin at SxSW:

Breath of Fresh Air Showcase 12-6 PM, Wednesday 03/18, Threadgills, 301 W Riverside Dr (Brownshoe, Jeremy Messersmith, Romantica, Chris Velan, The Secret, Life of Sofia, Amy Peace, Winterpills, KaiserCartel, The Damnwells)

Signature Sounds Showcase 8PM-1AM, Wednesday 03/18, The Velveeta Room, 6th St. & Red River (Caroline Herring, Peter Mulvey, Chris Smither, Eilen Jewell, Winterpills)

Join us for a great evening of music!