“New York, I love you, but you’re bringing me down.”
When we still called dear New York home, over any pitiful laments while meeting up for a drink, my oldest and dearest friend, Blake Royer, would soft-launch into the chorus of the closing track on LCD Soundsystem’s Sound of Silver. I’ll always fondly recall his wavering pitch, in attempt to match singer-songwriter James Murphy’s.
While I was not affected by Sandy, I know plenty of you were. I was very nearly waylaid in Virginia the Sunday Sandy touched down, but thankfully, my parents re-routed their drive back from the East Coast through Chicago, and I tagged along. I was even allowed to deejay — a rare treat in my family, rest-assured. As we pulled out of the District of Columbia, on our way to the Windy City via Primanti Brothers and a late-night Pricelined Holiday Inn — and the ensuing line of my mother’s bed bugs queries — I played this tune, a subtle tribute to the people of my former home.
My father, driving, goes, “Who’s this?”
“LCD Soundsystem. They were a dance-punk band popular in New York when I lived there.”
“What is Dance-punk?”
He asked, and then, forgetting his question, he and I proceeded to sing the chorus together. In the back seat, my mother was either asleep or unimpressed.
And then, this weekend while traveling for work in Boston, I met a men’s clothing store-owner whose close friend was Miles Davis. He told several tall tales, in particular a classic involving Mr. Davis and a velvet collar. I asked him what Davis solo, if any he could listen to, and he mentioned this one.
And this morning, by strange coincidence, Lizz Kannenberg posted this video to Facebook.
Lizz, I echo your sentiments. I love the internet.
Related: Seek out Shut Up & Play the Hits. By any means necessary.