When I first heard the chorus--"Oh, marina / Pastel hues / Which one tomorrow / Of your many moons?"--it knocked me out. The way that the music rises alongside Kozelek's question, reiterated in the second chorus ("Oh harp player / On Grant Avenue / Which one tomorrow / of your haunting tunes?"), is one of his most affecting moments so far.
Like Proust, he recognizes that most, if not all memories are involuntarily recollected. So the marina and the harp player, similar in their effect to Proust's madeleine, evoke for Kozelek--and the connection between these signifiers and that which they signify is invariably inexplicable, as the process completely transcends conscious understanding--memories of his past that would otherwise not be at the forefront of his mind.
His discussion of these objects is posed in question form because the memories they might present are entirely beyond his choosing--he asks because he's really just a passive observer in his own mind (as we all are). Kozelek is drifting through his day, taking his morning and late evening walks; he passes by the marina, or hears the harp player, when, suddenly and without any input on his part, "Katherine drifts again / Into [his] mind..."
When I first heard the chorus--"Oh, marina / Pastel hues / Which one tomorrow / Of your many moons?"--it knocked me out. The way that the music rises alongside Kozelek's question, reiterated in the second chorus ("Oh harp player / On Grant Avenue / Which one tomorrow / of your haunting tunes?"), is one of his most affecting moments so far.
Like Proust, he recognizes that most, if not all memories are involuntarily recollected. So the marina and the harp player, similar in their effect to Proust's madeleine, evoke for Kozelek--and the connection between these signifiers and that which they signify is invariably inexplicable, as the process completely transcends conscious understanding--memories of his past that would otherwise not be at the forefront of his mind.
His discussion of these objects is posed in question form because the memories they might present are entirely beyond his choosing--he asks because he's really just a passive observer in his own mind (as we all are). Kozelek is drifting through his day, taking his morning and late evening walks; he passes by the marina, or hears the harp player, when, suddenly and without any input on his part, "Katherine drifts again / Into [his] mind..."