The Mirror Lands

When I was a child, the headboard of my bed had a mirror flanked by two bookshelves. I kept my growing collection of Hardy Boys books on these two shelves and a jar of pennies that my grandfather had given to me on the day I was born. On sunny afternoons, after I had finished my chores, I would lie on my stomach and gaze into the mirror between the shelves.

The mirror gateway led me into a completely different world. Not different in a science fiction way; there were no blue trees or purple skies. Dogs couldn’t talk, and cars couldn’t fly. In fact, it was very similar to my own world. But it was on the opposite side of the looking glass. The same off-white walls and wooden baseboards were somehow different, nicer. The moldy yellow armchair and particleboard television stand were bigger and held much more value. The window of the room in the mirror lands was a gateway to adventure; not just the window in my bedroom, covered by the shrubbery.

Time did not exist in the mirror lands. I would gaze into its opposite wonderfulness for hours and think that only minutes had gone by. Or, maybe, I had gazed into it for minutes and think that hours had passed. I could never quite tell what was going to happen when I visited the mirror lands.

Nevertheless, days turned in to months, months into years, and years into a decade. The Hardy Boys books were replaced by Star Wars books and then by Dickens and Gaiman novels and an unhealthily large record collection. Eventually the bed, and its headboard, was sold and I became the proud owner of a headboard-free futon. You can’t really spend hours frolicking in the wild landscape of gunmetal grey bars that turn into armrests when a futon is in “couch” mode. The gateway to the mirror lands had been locked, and the key was lost somewhere with Galahad’s Grail.

One rainy, middle class day, a couple of weeks ago, I was walking past the door mirror that I have in my living room. It’s a pretty standard black-framed, hanging mirror that my wife and use to check ourselves before heading out to the lavish, spirit filled journeys that only struggling, college-age married couples have. It never really shows me anything except how long or short my hair and beard are, and i hadn’t really thought about the mirror lands in quite sometime. But as I turned around to head back to the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of the most beautiful rays of sunlight falling on a dazzling golden armchair and a expertly crafted cherry bookcase. I looked again and saw a bay window opening out onto a beautiful garden-by-the-sea; the window itself above a plush, deep maroon sitting bench. I realised in that moment, that the mirror lands had never been locked away, they had been there all along, steadily growing, just as I had. No,they were not lost, I had just forgotten what the path looked like to reach them.

Not-So-Classic Albums Revisited: “13″ by Blur

“Woo Hoo!” Yeah, that song isn’t on this one. Neither is any witty commentary on the mundane day to day of British society. This is the lowest of lows, the lowest point that Blur could ever hit. That is, however, an extremely good thing.

Even the worst of times are shaded with tiny rays of sunlight, and “13″ is no different. It is a manufactured, processed sunlight given off by fluorescent lamps however. Apparently the bulk of the albums lyrics are inspired by frontman Damon Albarn’s messy breakup, and that always makes for amazing(or hollow) fodder. The breakup sends this album on a manic spiral trough self-doubt, self-loathing, wistfulness and starting over. Gone are the days of Kinks inspired, “Rue Britannia” whimsy. In its stead, we have a completely fleshed out cycle of living with the loss of a lover.

Albarn seems to be cheering himself on in the opener “Tender”, with lines like “Come on, get through it. love is the greatest thing that we have”. But even the gospel choir in the background can’t cover the hollow that is creeping from his voice. He spends the rest of the album remembering the past(1992 specifically), and telling himself “i’ve gotta get over, i’ve gotta get better”. The album reaches a climax with “No Distance Left To Run”, wherein he finally realises there is no relationship and he needs to pursue his mania no futher. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the rest of Blur are having their own musical meltdown and breakup.

Mostly, up until this point, Blur had written little slices of British day-to-day wrapped inside a littel nugget of pop euphoria. Equally inspired by the Kinks, Bowie, and apparently the weather, the band always teetered on the edge of art school and Top of the Pops. “13″ demolishes any hopes ofa repeat offence.

Helmed by producer/dj Willaim Orbit, “13″ flirts with Eno inspired landscapes and has a full- blown affair with dancefloor beats. The only respite coming from the Graham Coxon sung “Coffee & TV”, which in itself is a helping of late 60′s British Invasion glee.

None of this is a bad thng in the slightest. The dancefloor flirtations and ambient background shapes take the album over the art-school edge that Blur so badly needed to fall over. Once they crossed that line, it made things like “Coffe &TV” more believable when they returned to them, however briefly.

All in all, this album is a jumbled mess of breakup feelings, club hopping, the late 90′s death of British culture, indie pop nuggets, and the implosion of a band that make for a compelling listen from start to finish. This is not another Brit pop album, and this is not a soundtrack to a sunny afternoon- this album is a moody piece to be commiserated with on a grey afternoon

(sort of)Hello World

so it was recommended that i start one of these pretty little numbers. when i did, it automatically posted for me. as you can see, i deleted that one in favor of extending my own greeting.

i really hated that day in class when you had to do the “getting to know you” exercise. i would usually lie about my “facts”. instead of 2 truths and a lie, it was usually 3 lies. oh well, i just don’t feel that it’s necessary to explain myself to the former cheerleaders and roller bag carriers in my classes.

this post is already way too wordy and pointless. i’ll post again when i can think clearly and not ramble.