Line By Line
The WalkmenLine by Line - The Walkmen
Now I know how the story goes,
The wicked all will die.
How do you know it?
I just know it.
I just know it.
Oh I’ve seen how this whole thing ends.
The honest man survives.
How do you know it?
I just know it.
I just know it.
Not in line with history.
Not in line with make-believe.
Line by line,
We all scrape by.
Line by line,
We all scrape by.
__________The Tragic Love Story_________
The
scientists
say that
the sun is falling towards the earth,
as much as
the earth is falling towards the sun
and that all of us are going to die
but all I wonder is how much in love they are
with each other
and how much for each other
they yearn
but no love survives and this love will cause
the earth to burn
Untitled collab
Sweetly she whispers of times gone by
her breath heavy with past loves
the weight of the air falls heavy on his skin
her eyes betray her nonchalance
the fire of desire burning in the clear blue
her lips speak of the trivial, yet smile coyly just for him
he remains oblivous while the onlookers see her plot
her body is awash with signals, unreceived
gentle touches, sideways glances unseen
all lost to his boyish inexperience
she longs to take his virtue, adding one more to her list
but his inability to see her thin advances is making it hard
how far will she push, the onlookers wonder
how long will she send out signals before her fire burns out
perhaps one drink more, then he will see
—————————————————————————————-
Collab between treazure and poeticallyundead.
Poeticallyundead is in BOLD
Treazure is in ITALICS
Folklore
John Patitucci (acoustic bass, 6-string bass); Adam Rogers (electric guitar, nylon-string guitar); Richard Rood (violin); Chris Potter (tenor saxophone); Brian Blade (drums)John Patitucci - Folklore (Line By Line, 2006)
Personnel: John Patitucci (double bass); John Patitucci (acoustic bass, 6-string bass); Adam Rogers (electric guitar, nylon-string guitar); Elizabeth Lim Dutton, Richard Rood, Richard Rood (violin); Lawrence Dutton (viola); Sachi Patitucci (cello); Chris Potter (tenor saxophone); Jeremy McCoy (double bass); Brian Blade (drums).
Line by Line
KetaminesBeing a music junkie in the middle of nowhere, I spend a lot of time standing by my mailbox, waiting for the latest record I ordered. This 7”, the “Line By Line” single by Ketamines, was totally worth it. It’s just about the catchiest song I’ve heard all year. Yes, you heard right, the lead singer is going “dee dee doo doo, do do dee do.” Because that’s the thing about Garage Rock: Music doesn’t have to be very cerebral when it’s this much fun.
Further Listening: Ketamines’ debut LP, Spaced Out, comes out in early March. I’ve already pre-ordered my copy, so it looks like I’ll be standing by my mailbox some more.
Line By Line
The WalkmenThe Walkmen - Line By Line
“Now I know how the story goes The wicked all will die How do you know it I just know it I just know it Oh I've seen how this whole thing ends The honest man survives How do you know it I just know it I just know it Not in line with history Not in line with make-believe Line by line We all scrape by Line by line We all scrape by”
—The Walkmen, “Line By Line”
Line By Line
The WalkmenThe Walkmen - Line By Line
From Heaven (2012)
Heard this yesterday in Resident Records in Brighton. I didn’t believe the guy at the till that it was from The Walkmen’s new album, Heaven. It’s easy to hear the influence of Fleet Foxes’ Robin Pecknold who is a guest vocalist on the album in this meditative track.
Prompt: "S/he didn't say"
This is a prompt from the Line By Line community on LiveJournal
The letter came today. I kind of thought it would. There wasn’t much to it, a few lines with a smattering of guilt and remnants of affection. I read it while trying to hold back tears, my eyes skipping down the page. I didn’t understand the words, the scant paragraphs of ridiculous ramblings, but I can tell you what he didn’t say.
He didn’t say I love you, and I’ll never stop.
He didn’t say I miss you, and I always will.
He didn’t say why he walked away, fell off the edge of the planet, made me feel crazy for having memories of him or why he evaporated into thin air, as if he never existed.
He didn’t say I shouldn’t have let you think there was something there, when it—we—were an empty space. A placeholder. Filler.
He didn’t say he wasted my time. Or used my heart and then wrung it out to dry and left it hanging, nonchalant and forlorn on some haphazard forgotten shelf in his life.
Most of all, he didn’t say he was coming back.
And that is the part that makes me the most sad.
I wrote this a very long time ago. The prompt was "shades of grey."
She loves to be near the water, because there are no shades of grey here. Literal ones, perhaps, when the weather grows stormy and the sky threatens and the waves toss, but things are what they are here. The sky watches over all, blue and bright. The sand covers the vast expanse of land, grainy and soothing underfoot. The wind tosses the waves, gently, and jumps from the water to land, mussing hair and flying kites.
Then there is the water. It is the draw, the pull, the main attraction. Roaring whichever way it will, the water is a living thing, and there is no questioning that. It is simply something she knows, standing by its edge. Breathing it in, feeling the spray on her skin, feeling it splashing at her feet, she knows it as she knows her name. Things here are as they are, were, will be.
She loves to be near the water, because there are no shades of grey here.
