Ok, so there are some songs that make you cry, right? “Let It Be” is one of those for me, as is “Imagine.” That’s why, even though I love love love those songs, I don’t listen to them very often.

But, have you ever just loved the experience of listening to music so much that it just made you want to cry? Maybe I’m just overly emotional, but that’s what The Mountain Goats are doing to me.

Two nights ago, I liked tMG a lot. I’d listened to probably 30-40 songs of theirs, and I definitely had a few favorites memorized. I definitely liked them enough to spend $20 on their concert in Seattle, but was unfamiliar with them enough that I would have second-guessed getting that ticket if I knew that it would really turn out to be over $30.

I didn’t think John Darnielle was particularly attractive.

I even have to confess that I didn’t like his voice all that much most of the time.

Also, one of my two favorite songs was pretty much their most famous single, which always makes me feel like a bad fan, because I always feel like I should know more obscure material, especially if I like the band enough to go to one of their concerts. It’s like how die-hard Jason Mraz fans (such as myself) hate it when people who only know “I’m Yours” go to his concerts. I want to tell them to sit down, shut up, and listen to Curbside Prophet.

Anyway, there’s also a ton of tMG history that I am still not familiar with. Like John Darnielle’s time in rehab… or even his age. I don’t know if it’s weird that I don’t want to go to someone’s concert without knowing this stuff first, but it’s true. I felt especially bad going with someone who knew everything and was just about as mesmerized as a person could be.

I’m not really sure whether to make this long story short or not.

There’s so much that I could say… about the openers, the crowd, the songs, the performance, John Darnielle, my friend’s bordering-on-religious experience (he’s probably so euphoric that he won’t eat for days…), about how they played my absolute favorite tMG song, “Love Love Love.” And actually, he played my other favorite song also, “This Year.”

Here’s the setlist:

[band]
1. 1 samuel 15:23
2. letter from belgium
3. isaiah 45:23
4. cotton
5. romans 10:9
6. love love love
[john]
7. orange ball of peace
8. sign of the crow
9. woke up new
10. thank you mario, but our princess is in another castle
11. 1 john 4:16 [w/ final fantasy]
12. going to fucking bristol [w/ owen pallett on violin and john on vocals; no guitar]
[band]
13. hebrews 11:40
14. hast thou considered the tetrapod
15. psalms 40:2
16. against pollution
17. this year
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18. ezekiel 7 and the permanent efficacy of grace
19. no children
20. the best ever death metal band in denton
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21. see america right

And ever since I saw this concert, I don’t really know what to do with myself. Granted, it’s only been about 24 hours, and I’ve kept very busy, but still. It was an amazing show… and I don’t really know whether to laugh, or cry, or just listen to their music continuously, or hold off on listening to it to savor the memory, or what.

Some moments last forever, and some flare up with love, love, love.

Submission? I was once a devout Roman Catholic and have defied what you call submission. When I grew up and saw religion in general for what it is, I left it behind deeming it to be just a way for the fearful and weak to explain the unknown. I saw it to be contradictory and depriving and CHOSE to say “FUCK RELIGION”. I CHOOSE not to uphold christian standards just as you undoubtedly choose to masturbate to playboy or on-line porn against your mighty god’s will. I’ve attempted to take a man’s life in sober mind and without regard ov the horrible punishment your god would have me endure or the law’s form ov justice. Your only venturing into the same plane as the comments which you denounce. I’ve read your listed “True metallers…” and your “good advice…” and agreed somewhat with it as I have a similar outlook. But now after reading only half ov this I can only say that you are a sheep mindlessly following his shepherd and wasting what little mind he has. What you say ov christians being the “most rebellious type” is by far the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. It offends me, as I’m sure it does many, to think that you see yourself as an equal in any way to one who has vowed to uphold nothing but what he so chooses. Metal in general is about having no limits, not about giving in to some imaginary, all-powerful, being that dwells in the heavens where no one can see him. Brainless nutsacks like you are FULL OV SHIT. If you’re so damn rebellious than why are you posting blogs on this matter looking for acceptance. You say music shouldn’t be about ideology and yet in nearly all christian albums ever produced, what is the ideology behind it? I must say, it deeply dissappoints me to see how stupid people can be. Whether you post this comment or not, I hope you read it in its entirety and can truly understand what stupidity your kind has brought upon man. It’s people like you, who, out ov fear, believe aliens conveniently landed on earth and gave us such great technology. People like you who promoted racial/religious superiority and caused countless, if not all, wars. Whether it’s our preserve or not, you don’t see BM musicians going around producing satanic christian metal do you? How do you believe that would sound? Or how about making nazi reggae music? Despite all that’s been said, I respect your argument, however irritating it may be. I know that there will be no altering your opinion so I leave you with this, fuck you and your god.

Uppföljaren till kortfilmen Hail Satan har nu lagts upp på YouTube. En historia om vänskap, svek och godtyckliga subkulturella normer under black metal-flagg utlovas tittarna, utöver ett kargt svensk vinterlandskap.

“You would never say, ‘Hail Satan’ would you?” I ask David.

“Hell no.”

“Not even as a joke?”

Gravely: “No.”

I didn’t let up.

“Let’s say there was an emergency and you needed a cab,
and the only cab in the city had SATAN written in huge red letters on the side…
would you literally ‘Hail Satan’ then?”

“No dude, I owe the Big Guy my life.”

“But God knows what’s in your heart…”

He ignored that. Told me his story. Brain tumor. Surgery. 40% chance to live.
(Obviously, he made it).

So there we both were
He a Miracle and me a shithead, both of us working the
same stupid shit job for no pay, legal slavery.

Somehow I don’t feel like I owe the Big Guy.

In fact, I wish a cab would whisk me to Hell right now
with David’s tumor behind the wheel.

how could it be worse?

Da dies der 666te Beitrag in diesem Blog ist, halte ich es für sinnvoll, mal eine kurze Auflistung der Beiträge abzugeben, die – natürlich vollkommen subjektiv – ganz gut geworden sind. Oder von denen ich das denke und ihnen eine Halbwertszeit zuspreche, die größer ist als die der sonstigen durchschnittlichen Leerzeilen, die ich hier täglich in die mediale Infosphäre feuere. Damit auch diejenigen unter den geschätzten sieben regelmäßigen Lesern, die erst später dazugekommen sind, mal einen Anhaltspunkt haben, worum es hier geht. Oder genauer: worum es mir geht. Natürlich außer in der zeitlichen Abfolge in keinster Weise kategorisiert. Here we go, Dudes:

Midnight Magic Screaming at a Wall Autonome Gewalt ohne Hasskappe Take the money and run Kriegskind Funkstille Alle Affen glotzen Mein Nahtoberlebnis Das hätte er nicht sagen dürfen Herzensangelegenheit Rock! Klimakonspiration Orson Welles & Superman Hypertextspace Feuilletonluder Wir nennen es Ungleichheit Kritik im Zeitalter ihrer medialen Produzierbarkeit Eskapismus Wenn zwei sich unterhalten freut sich der dritte Die sind harmlos, die wollen nur spielen Stadt Land Netz Blumengiessen am Südbalkon Links ist da wo der Daumen rechts ist Dampfmaschinenpunker Klapp deine Hände sag Ja Moment Drei Scheiben: Käse Hey Du, Live Earth Du schlägst doch keinen Mann mit Brille Zukunftsforschung can kiss my ass Nichts von Bedeutung Straßenkredibilität Wir sind die Guten Horst schreibt um sein Leben Kimota! A im Kreis Innovation kommt nicht von oben POV Waren Sie auch noch nie in Venedig? Lieblingsband Heute sagt man Opfer Powergamer Raketen in Schrott Prepare! We’re about to become fictional!

Als Soundtrack dazu bitte diesen Klassiker und die Lautsprecher auf elf. Mal sehen, vielleicht werden im Laufe der Zeit noch mehr Beiträge zu dieser Auflistung hinzukommen, vielleicht aber auch nicht. Die Entscheidung lasse ich mir frei. Ansonsten sei auch einfach mal ein zufälliger Beitrag empfohlen, der ist wie eine Schachtel Pralinen: Man beißt rein und weiß nie was man bekommt. Im Zweifelsfall Schnaps.