Yesterday afternoon brought yet another (unsuccessful) outing to shop for a new oven.
Who knew that being an adult would be so annoying?
To console myself, I acquired Under the Big Black Sun. I own the LP, which has long been fatally warped. I couldn’t bear to part with my vinyl, though – the cover art is like an anthem to my adolescence. But it’s unplayable. When I found a used, remastered cd for $3.95 I didn’t need to debate pros and cons, it was a simple Yes.
This is my favorite X album. It’s about loss, and specifically, death. Its truths are saturated, in the same manner I might characterize the Laphroiag in my liquor cabinet as smokey. When Exene cries:
The man is gone,
Good morning midnight.
the depth of her grief is so well encapsulated that I’m tempted to send a sympathy card.