'Bee Thousand' by Guided by Voices (1994)
Foreward: This is not an essay or a normal review. It isn't even an anecdote or a short story. Just read it, listen to the album and figure it out. There's a clue in my avatar. Find out who the man in the picture is and read up on him(wikipedia will suffice)
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The sound waves bounced around inside his skull,
backwards into time he is/was/will be sent,
a curious regression triggered by an aural association
a remembrance of things past(in search of misplaced clocks!)
into his memory and into the unfolding ugly depths of his mind.
The ugly depths of his mind goes well with the beautiful sounds.
The echos, the fear, the melodic trance machines
and the surreal mystical connections that everything seemed to--
He is sent back to a starry night, late last summer,
the cricket cacophony naught but a buzzing background hum,
staring intently into the sky, smoking, searching for hardcore UFOs,
seeing satellites crawl across the sky,
sitting with a friend and a box of fireworks,
shooting them off,
the explosions shot outwards
with white hot tendrils of light
which cut through the immense black sky.
No aliens were found.
A new memory, going forward but still facing back,
now: a new line running straight on the grid
his hope is a slow decline downwards and spiraling
The girl he has a crush on, singing and yelling in the rain as they ran for shelter:
“speed up, slow down, go all around, in the end.”
she runs faster than him and he can't catch up.
she runs through the night and is young and full of life
she screams and she cries in ecstatic joyous splendor
she wants him to come, but he can't follow her there,
even though he wants to
he just ain't quick enough
and she won't slow down
which is why he had the crush in the first place
he knew it was an impossibility.
A new memory, going forward but still facing back,
When he was on acid and going insane,
smashing a piece of wood on the ground
imitating his heroes who smashed their instruments on stage
he felt he was on stage
twenty-five seven
the cure, the catharsis, pure emotional release
freaking out tour groups on campus, shouting:
“THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE REAL SHIT. THIS IS THE FEAR,
THE PASSION AND THE TRAGEDY”
nobody dared interrupt his awful bliss.
you know things could get much worse
you know things could get much better
could be better!
Down and out.
A guy he knew got arrested for robbing a liquor store,
the Arabs who owned the place chased him all the way down the street,
screaming in their native tongues and finally tackled him.
Let's just go get out of here
down and out
“I can't bear to shout but right now i'm trapped inside my mind.
I feel like a scientist sometimes, or a journalist, sitting here,
trying to show you the things inside my mind,
with hopes that you'll like it,
because if not, then hell, why even try?
please, someone unlock my mind
i seek to understand me
it is not working out.”
The smell of her house
he can remember it
it looks so nice
it was always nice, all of it, it's entirety
his brain is a cluttered mess.
they're all a mess
rusty and divided steel
a clash of swords and a clash of wills
we could argue and fight all day
but who cares?
Nobody will win.
Nobody ever wins.
So we sit there with our
rusty and divided steel
the race is yet to come