sing yr. life

esme has her own song, and it’s by JAWBREAKER, and i didn’t even KNOW until the day before yesterday, and certainly that means something.

because on january 12, 2003, i wrote this particular essay about jawbreaker and we have that unfun lp cover on our wall, even right now, because it is one of my favorite favorite things ever.

been staring for 100 hours

run down a spiral plane

keep mouth clamped tight

and it isn’t right

when my friends gloria and joel were living together, at some point, i borrowed joel’s jawbreaker lp. unfun. the one with the little kitty on the cover. he said that i would love it. i did. i never gave it back. even when he cried on my knees when they broke up and made me listen to bob dylan for 3 hours straight. he asked for it back, but i thought that a song like ‘i want you’ would be just too much in his fragile state. it might have sent him over the edge.

i don’t know what happened to joel, but i still have the lp. i will deny that it’s his if he ever tracks me down. ‘oh no my brother, i bought my own.’ that’s what i’ll say. please back me up in this, k?

so, when jawbreaker were on geffen, and dear you came out, my boss from the strip mall record store would NOT let me have the limited super rare promo that was all shaped and packaged like a book. the only time i was ever as disappointed with not getting something from someone who was supposed to care but obviously didn’t understand the hierarchy of deservance in terms of records was when my ex had a copy of comet gain’s tigertown pictures before the release date, and wouldn’t give it to me, even though he’s supposed to be my boyfriend. shit. i mean, really.

i mean, i doubt so much that chris kimball is sitting at home right now, listening to jawbreaker. i mean, i doubt the man has ever listened to jawbreaker in his life. oh, but i’m over it.

i went to see jawbreaker at gilman, once. it was absolutely goddamn life affirming. i felt like an old lady there, i must’ve been at least 20 or something hideous like that. it was pretty empty, and the kids were obviously not aware of what they were witnessing. at one point, someone threw something at blake and he just stopped and stared and said, ‘fuck you…in the heart.’ poetry. i use that line all the time, you know, when i’m really mad.

but it was intense, that show. i thought there would be blood to mop up afterwards, the strumming was so hard, the shouting so loud, the raw emotion hitting the back wall like shards of non-safety glass. i was hoarse, sweaty, and spent, after, and i wasn’t even a teenager.

unfun has gotten me through at least 3 breakups. when the kids come into the store and buy nofx or rancid, i make sure to grab bivouac and put it on for them. chesterfield king. no one ever wrote a better song about unrequited love gone good. yes, i said good. odd, for me, don’t you think?

so esme has a song now.

which is good.

cause everything else in her mommy’s life is so unappealing.

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Published in: on December 12, 2005 at 4:10 pm  Leave a Comment  

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