Last night I was reminded of one of the saddest songs ever:
"Nobody ever believes. They just leave, they just leave
And they'll see you on their own sweet time
They just leave"
Break my HEART. It's been almost ten years since "One Part Lullaby" came out, and I'm still wanting to sing this song with tears coming down my face in a karaoke bar. You know, I want to make dinner, cut an onion, and have this song playing on repeat, getting louder toward the middle when the grief really kicks in. I love the sweetness of it; the epic, wistful pain. I can't mess with that sort of purity.
In high school, when I first heard it, I was totally consumed with indie culture and could think about nothing else but getting the eff out of my podunk high school, and this resulted in an inflated sense of pop knowledge and the ego to go along with it. Not a good thing, but sorta amusing and shameful in retrospect, the way you should remember being a teenager.
I taped 120 Minutes every week and this song came on and I watched the video over and over, wanting to develop some sort of crush on Lou Barlow (look, when you are young your hormones are CRAZY, ok?!). It never happened, but I did fall in love with his voice and his songwriting, something that has served me far better than any poster in a locker. I do regret not having made any sort of fanzines for the bands I really loved. It's that sort of temporal pain that informs my own decisions now. Makes me feel urgent and hungry to consume. I want to make some sort of certificate that says "Disiple of Lou Barlow and All Related Projects, All 32 Of Them".
There is a Christian band called BarlowGirl that I really wish had something to do with Lou. I have this fantasy of five (there is room for some movement here, actually it could range from three to six. I'm sure this would be mostly up to the record company, I'm thinking Tooth and Nail should be knocking on my door any moment now) Christian teenage girls who make their own arrangements of Dinosaur Jr. and Lou Barlow penned songs. One of them beat-boxes. She's the "street" member, a reformed addict who's taking the loneliest lyrics and making them accessable to the Christian pop community. Her name is Julie, and she's my favorite. They choreograph dance routines and have 90's inspired co-ordinating uniforms.
Oh gosh, I think that if there was a fan club for Lou called BarlowGal I'd make that t-shirt. I'd weep in my room watching Kids in my Doc Martens (I don't have Doc Martens, but I'd get some. Big '90's ones, because I'd be the manager my fantasy BarlowGirl band and be able to afford them. Finally).