Memory in Chris Pureka's lyrics pull a tension between that thoracic plunge and a word I forgot which describes the asystolic offbeat, the beat between, the return, "trying to find a compromise between remembering and learning to forget" in 'So it Goes'.
I'm a long time on and off again songmeanings creeper and first time writer. and first comment for this song. I've often come here looking to others' emotional takes to decode my own compulsions and wishful thinking -interpretations- and all that is cryptic in remembering together the things we lost - the mix tapes - from relationships we couldn't recover - the data corrupted - disintegrated - fall leaves post-burst into the archival earth - something about the light and cool of November -shines through the marrow of me- is sobering and sorrow, clear, cruel, lucid, painful, confusing.
"The garden is empty
and I still remember why
I'm so reluctant ot start it again"
I've tried to start the garden again with others - once even to project an image of sanity to myself - why would you still think about something that is gone, why that reluctance between pleasure and pain - how fucked up am I to still hold you in my mind and heart when you were the person who held me and hurt me like none other - "you always were the very next lover that I couldn't love" - I couldn't love, you wouldn't let love, loved, or was just toyed with by your obviously superior emotional intelligence, don't worry though or gloat, I won't always be your fool.
"eternal November
shines through the marrow of me" eternal as in I listen to this song all year round, bed time playlists, iPod running playlists (hitting stride with the lyric: "You were running around so you'd never remember this
fear lights a fire under you")
"Blame me dear for any disaster, (you were right to run, you laid out the framework for preservation: emotional boundaries I couldn't respect)
oh how the kerosene ran dry
and we made our bed in that familiar graveyard
between the sternum and the spine"
An interviewer once asked Chris Pureka to talk about the life-events that inspired one of Chris's albums and Chris's answer was that it was all in the lyrics - so I'm going to respect that this song is brilliant and doesn't even really need any added words and I don't want to reveal too much of what is more complex than this space allows.
Memory in Chris Pureka's lyrics pull a tension between that thoracic plunge and a word I forgot which describes the asystolic offbeat, the beat between, the return, "trying to find a compromise between remembering and learning to forget" in 'So it Goes'.
I'm a long time on and off again songmeanings creeper and first time writer. and first comment for this song. I've often come here looking to others' emotional takes to decode my own compulsions and wishful thinking -interpretations- and all that is cryptic in remembering together the things we lost - the mix tapes - from relationships we couldn't recover - the data corrupted - disintegrated - fall leaves post-burst into the archival earth - something about the light and cool of November -shines through the marrow of me- is sobering and sorrow, clear, cruel, lucid, painful, confusing.
"The garden is empty and I still remember why I'm so reluctant ot start it again"
I've tried to start the garden again with others - once even to project an image of sanity to myself - why would you still think about something that is gone, why that reluctance between pleasure and pain - how fucked up am I to still hold you in my mind and heart when you were the person who held me and hurt me like none other - "you always were the very next lover that I couldn't love" - I couldn't love, you wouldn't let love, loved, or was just toyed with by your obviously superior emotional intelligence, don't worry though or gloat, I won't always be your fool.
"eternal November shines through the marrow of me" eternal as in I listen to this song all year round, bed time playlists, iPod running playlists (hitting stride with the lyric: "You were running around so you'd never remember this fear lights a fire under you")
"Blame me dear for any disaster, (you were right to run, you laid out the framework for preservation: emotional boundaries I couldn't respect) oh how the kerosene ran dry and we made our bed in that familiar graveyard between the sternum and the spine"
An interviewer once asked Chris Pureka to talk about the life-events that inspired one of Chris's albums and Chris's answer was that it was all in the lyrics - so I'm going to respect that this song is brilliant and doesn't even really need any added words and I don't want to reveal too much of what is more complex than this space allows.