POP your heart out.

when was it exactly, that I realized that I was a popkid?

somewhere between the faux emo pop punk and corporate alternative to the faintly indiepop mostly mediocore death cab for cutie to the first liking of bands like of montreal or the boy least likely to, between indie and pop and things that just happen to drift my way, how did I get here?

where I can fully admit and understand that more than anything else in the world, indiepop is the one thing that makes me happy.

where I'd go as far as to make it up to santa barbara to see the lucksmiths live, and realize already (it's seems so far away!) that it might as well be one of the better days of my life. where a line from a belle & sebastian song has never sounded more relevant. where all I want to do is wake up every morning to the sound of sarah records...on a compilation tape my friend had sent to me from paris.

where reading certain threads on bowlie makes me feel at home...

somewhere between then and now I learned all the lyrics to "get me away from here, i'm dying" and accepted it to be probably my favorite song. somewhere between then and now camera obscura and acid house kings snuck into my top played songs list. somewhere between then and now I became familiar with far too many swedish indiepop artists and too many twee bands the rest of the world wasn't aware existed.

somewhere between then and now I realized all the hipster bands I tried to keep up with were just that--momentary enjoyments, weekly obsessions that fades into the occasional fun nostalgic singalong, but not much more. Hipster bands I'd have fun seeing and then forget that I saw, a month later.

somewhere between then and now I fell in love with every bit of every indiepop boy with the brown hair and sweet smile and lucksmiths record.

and, so what?

so what now?

buried beneath cutesy, sweet sounding names and record label connections and a dream of sweden or at least an indiepop club night somewhere in london, where like minded boys and girls are clad in scarves and cardigans with buttons and friendly faces and dance to a band too obscure for them to have heard...

it makes me happy, but it does this other thing of detaching myself from reality.

reality. you know, the thing where listening to the perfect pop record when the weather is just perfect and walking through the neighborhood park won't magically fix all of life's problems? the thing where disappointment and things that just shouldn't go wrong going wrong never stops happening. the thing without a happy ending, sometimes even without a fitting semi romantic tragic storyline..

and so what?

so what if life has corners and edges and sharp turns that you can't avoid, turns no matter how sweetly sung can't be avoided. so what if life tosses what seems to be all that's rotten, so what if it feels like everyone worth meeting lives too far away, in that other world of the twee kids and intellectuals and people who care, people who smile and people who converse for no other reason than to share a moment. just a moment, with a stranger, a friend.

perhaps nothing. perhaps everything.

perhaps life's problems can be sidestepped--it shouldn't be too hard. snuggle up in bed, with a good book and a good record on the stereo, maybe that all important diary and a pen, maybe a head filled with thoughts far too complicated and directionless...perhaps all we really ever need is that one song, you know the one where every line seems to be written for you? and the singer, that boy or girl who you imagine to be singing to you, that boy or girl who wrote the song because of you. perhaps all we really ever need is to singalong--go on. forget that the neighbors might be listening or that someone else might laugh. forget that you can't quite clarify the lyrics, or that sometimes it just sounds so, so, silly. forget all that and close your eyes and sing and imagine...

it's not so hard, you see?

times like these, you might as well be, one in the crowd, eyes glistening, attentive, excited. smiling at the band who are smiling back even as they play, those precious jangly guitars and that familiar melody and those ba da da da and la la la's that seem to be pouring from your own heart...and you know, soon, you will be.

you just have to wait.

after all, the best things happen when you don't know what's going on.


I like it when you talk to me
Listen, love, buy.
MP3s don't last forever.

songs + words