Today I decided to make the best Saturday possible. I hit the farmer’s market for fresh Michigan asparagus and got a massive taco from the truck, eating in the sun. I got home and listened to my new ATLiens and Endtroducing vinyls before leaving on an extended bike ride along the lake shore. A lot happened; it’s detailed below. Spoiler: I had a much better time than last week, when I crashed my bike.
I came upon this lonely house, the first in a brand new development on the shoreline. With workers on the roof and the surrounding landscape, I was struck by the most indelible image from one of my favorite films of all time, Days of Heaven. Then I kept riding.
Yesterday I crashed my bike. A kid skateboarding with headphones swerved in front of me. Hooked on a railroad track, I flipped and hit my head, destroying my glasses and shredding my hand. It was kind of terrible.
I woke today with my entire body aching, needing something gentle on the ears to go with my pain pills and coffee. I remembered a friend telling me that Annabel (lee) sounded “like a cross between trip-hop, smokey old-time jazz/Billie Holiday, and a bit of Matana Roberts.” He was right on the money. Thanks to Bandcamp, you can listen for yourself; the entire album is streaming below.
This video dropped halfway through the year and I feel terrible for failing to share it immediately. The song is one of 9 front-to-back highlights on a pop masterpiece I wrote about in February and the video is something odd and special, inventive and thoughtful. And unexpected. And fun.
Yes, this is a first person race through the streets of Vancouver on a fast motorcycle. The driver blasts through stoplights and throughfares with abandon and although the imagery pairing with this song feels arbitrary at first, the conclusion leaves no doubt as to its artistic intent. It reminds me of Gran Turismo and Stockholm Getaway and my own attempts at taping rides through the city (albeit on a bicycle, in my case). This is an experience, as much as the song (and album) itself is a blistering neon-lit ride through a dark night of Dan Bejar’s soul. Watch to the end.
Speaking of bicycle rides, I wish this was me: