I’ve been in a deep hole of vinyl consumer therapy. I’ve basically been spending all my money on records for the past 2 months. I’ve also been eating a lot of pies and cookies. It’s a combination of traits I inherited from my dad (sweet tooth and collector mentality), also emotional compensation to combat the stress of unrequited romance. So to mark the end of an intense, dramatic parting of ways, I put on this newly purchased classic of concentrated smooth depression:
Shaun Harris’ only solo effort is a pretty important, largely overlooked gem. Its deceivingly breezy arrangements lightly obscure the black tar of self loathing and regret at its core. If you feel like going into your dark place, and ruminating about Shaun Harris’ state of mind while writing lyrics like:
All my life was just poor taste,
24 golden years of waste,
Nature’s time will help erase,
My scent and my eyes, my hair my face (I think those are the words)
I’ll be easy to replace,
Abrasive, crass and lacking grace,
Then I’ll cry out from my grave,
I’m so alone and got to say:
God I’m sorry for what I’ve done to her
On a related note, this song by Scott Walker pretty much sums up my life vibe today