Schnipper’s Slept On
- story THE FADER
Each Tuesday, FADER editor Matthew Schnipper highlights an underappreciated recent release he thinks we need to know about. This week it’s No Kids’ album Come Into My Housewhich you can purchase here. Listen to “Four Freshman Locked Out As The Sun Goes Down” from the record below and read about it after the jump.
I just had lunch with my mom. We’re both short white Jews. Her mom is at least a Turkish immigrant, so that’s kind of a cool point, but, like I’m wearing a buttondown shirt and a cardigan. I’ve got tortoise shell glasses, you know? I mean, my mom is pretty awesome and has good taste in shit and we talked about The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. She reads JM Coetzee, tells me about being a boss. My mom is kind of mean, which is surprising when you are 5-foot-2. I love that shit. I gave her a CD of some women from Belize singing, she ate a salad with sun dried tomatoes. What I am saying is I’m pretty content with my genes (except for that shitty osteoporosis shit. Thanks guys.) but they aren’t really that cool. I’m a nerd, I come from nerds. My sister is maybe less nerdy than me, I guess, but that’s just because she’s a girl and I think it’s endearing. Me, I just live on Dork Island. So it goes. I mean, my job is made up with 1. Thinking about stuff really hard 2. Writing about it really specifically 3. Looking at other people’s writing about stuff and making it the best it can be. Seriously dudes, my grama is clowning me super hard in cool points (she hikes and is 80 and used to have llamas). But, whatever, I’m over it because I can’t change that shit. So, it is with slight discomfort that I so predictably feel the shit out of No Kids. Because this is the most loser dude glasses and wine and talking about feelings and I went to graduate school at a good school and I want to make a creative contribution to the world music in history excluding maybe music sold at natural foods stores.
The cover of their album is an Alex Katz painting. Dudes, I saw a retrospective of his with my parents on the Upper East Side at the Jewish Museum. Oh my God this is worse than I thought it would be when I started writing. I’m just gonna transcribe the lyrics from “Four Freshman Locked Out As The Sun Goes Down” (so Dead Poets Society): (ok ps this shit sounds like it is getting played on a ukulele and sung by a barbershop quartet of future republicans. Okay the lyrics: The sun goes down and the rich and the hills are all aglow/ and I’m missing everyone I know all at once/ So it goes, so it goes/ It’s easy to forget that a sight like this happens all the time/ Twilight still lights themselves when I’m outside after a fight/ A wayward wind blows strong, whips me and the leaves along/ And I don’t got a leg left to stand on anymore, I know this one’s for sure/ Oooooh ah ahhh/ I hear the clang (clang clang) of the gate closing the grounds for the night/ But to be oh with a key and to know someone’s there just for me inside/ So we can sit on the porch swing and you can stare off at the willow trees and make like you’re listening to me while above old crows tiptoe on the leaves/ Still a wayward wind blows strong, whips me and the leaves along/ And I don’t got a leg left to stand on anymore, I know this one’s for sure/ / Oooooh ah ahhh.
What am I supposed to do with that? God.
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