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Man, we thought Matthew would be happy to hit the home stretch but today's entries are real melancholy. They're about nude dudes and tampons, but still, a little sad. Check S and T after the jump and Schnipper A-Z at the Apartment on Crosby Street.
Simone, Nina, Sings the Blues LP
When I first made friends with Daniel, he brought me up to his attic bedroom and made me listen to My Man’s Gone Now. I sat on his bed; he sat on the floor, cross-legged on dusty rugs. He played the song and closed his eyes, maybe waved his hands like a conductor. I’ve seen Daniel a lot since then, some years almost every day. We’ve flown cross-country to visit each other, been on tour together, my parents ask after him. Ultimately I know nothing is truer Daniel than this, him forcing me to listen to some stupid song while he closes his eyes. He has this certain sway, the gentlest thing he does, his torso moving from his waist like a pendulum. This is the kind of reception I expected when I showed up at his house at four in the morning after a long drive to visit. His housemate answered the door and said Daniel’d told him to tell me to go up to the attic and wake him. I toed up the ladder-stairs and called out this name quietly to no answer. When I finally poked my head up through the door all I saw was a huge fan pointed at Daniel’s naked body, all his limbs spread like a starfish. I didn’t wake him up.
Letter S podcast: Scorces, Un Es-tu la bete
TI, King LP
Visiting my family for Rosh Hashanah, my grandmother and I sat on the couch, catching up and watching music videos. The Live in the Sky video came on while Yasmin, her Chihuahua puppy, kept biting me. We stayed chatting while I unsuccessfully shooed the dog. I tried to focus on her story but the nibbling was too much and finally my grandmother took control, grabbed the dog and told her if she didn’t stop she’d shove a tampon in her mouth.
Letter T podcast: Tenor Rising Drums Expanding, Untitled