Prozac and Whimsy

In a previous entry I (rightfully) claimed that Semi-Detached by Therapy? was the greatest album of 1998. This is a claim that I stand by but I had to fact check just to see what I was putting it up against and saw an album that I adore but one that I didn’t find until much later.

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel is the most /MU/ album there is. It is where I picked it up from and I freely admit this, I have read books and articles about it and listened to it obsessively over the years. On face value it is a ridiculous thing, an indie folk album about that flits around topics such as Anne Frank and love and isolation and family relationships. The style also flits about and it’s hard to actually call this folk with a straight face as it goes fucking hard at times but there is also an instrumental that is a mental psychedelic romp featuring Uilleann pipes and not Bagpipes as I always thought. (See I do do some research for this crap it’s not just *ALL* the random waffle of a depressed idiot)

For the longest time I searched for a record, or a band, that sounded like no one and nothing else. And I thought this was it. You could still argue that this a truly unique thing. Something special that needs to be pored over and dismantled and worshipped and adored. But what if it’s just a good album, a really good album? What if you could just put it on and let it make you smile or feel sad or ride the wave of both emotions for not quite 40 minutes? What if that alone was enough to ask for?

I’m struggling to find a middle ground with myself at the minute. I am either lower than a snakes belly or flying high. I’m getting jittery and trembly and my brain is going faster and faster and faster all the time. I’m having trouble getting my words and thoughts out verbally and even getting them down on screen now. I’ve sat down at least four times to try and write this with the approach to it being drastically different each time.

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is a great album. It deserves it’s cult like following but my relationship with music isn’t like that any more. I will rave about songs and bands and spill hundreds of words about them and what they mean to me but that’s just my take on it. I’m not saying that what I think is right or wrong as I know I’m a fucking idiot who knows nothing about a lot of things. Your favourite band is your favourite band, and you telling me that isn’t an invitation for me to tell you that I know a better band or that your band are bad and you should be ashamed (not even if it is Coldplay)

I was a tedious music snob for the longest time. I thought that High Fidelity was something that should be followed like a religion and that you should have top ten debut singles or side one track ones of all time and that feeling like that about music made it, and thus you, better. And it doesn’t, it takes away everything that makes musical magical and special. So I stopped acting and thinking like that. I stopped going on /MU/ and Reddit looking for validation for my opinions and praise for my tastes.

The problem now is I don’t know why I can’t just stop thinking and feeling about other things, or even just change behaviours. I don’t know how to stop or even slow down everything that is going on. There are times where I feel wildly out of control and am just a passenger in my own life. But then a lot of the time I feel like a ghost and I’m slipping away from myself. I’m a broken puzzle and I think I’ve lost some of my pieces.

When I used to write my fingers could keep pace with my brain and the words used to spill out of me before I even knew what was going to happen. Now it is all mixed metaphors and flitty random waffle. The title track is my favourite from the album and the line that sticks with me each and every time I play it is “Can’t believe how strange it is to be anything at all”

I don’t think I know what I am anymore.