Phoenix Rainbow – Spell Book
listening to spell book, cody is talking to me on facebook chat he says he died, but reveals it’s his hair and moon starts out with transmissions and native americans and then his slow croon comes in to slow front porch strums, the strums at holbrook in the good days (and the bad, too).
he calls me bbf on chat as “this can last forever” comes on and i like that and this song too as a whole which is not doing much of anything except drawing its power from lyrics like “i’m gonna get better in the morning” followed by “i’m gonna get my fix in the mornin'” and then it’s static again and messages, people speaking, morphed people speaking and he tells me “happy 8:20” to which I say “it’s only 8:17” and he says “not in cleveland”
he says “i know this girl” when “don’t settle” comes on. I think I’ll tell him that. I did.
“strangers” is a lullaby, cody is singing to himself, cooing and I hope he sleeps well and is smiling as he does so–do not be a stranger, that sounds like something you would say to me in a grandpa voice as I leave, and you would laugh a laugh where the lines crease in your face, but it would be a pained laugh like some stomach pain invade the face and your heart as I leave with her and you mean it when you say it and i know we arent becoming this but what if we are (we can’t be, we wont, we wont we wont we cant)
we’re talking about missing each other and “I wish I could be there when you hear this song” comes on and i want to baptize you in fire cody, remember when I wrote those wrong lyrics on a paper, typed them, actually and gave it to you and remember what it said:
And if you leave me
leave me on fire
and remember, I was with you when i first heard that song, and i was sitting on your parent’s no dad’s kitchen and i had my eye’s closed and blue was by my hands and mary was there standing and smiling and lauren was talking to kyle i think
“Spell” feels like a new start and as i think this you come back on chat saying you just smoked and this whole review/chat process is a little to entwined for my atheist heart and now bob’s reading like a indian-style-sitting boy floating through the air reading to frightened, oblivious children. these melodies and overlapping ethereal choruses are what it’s like inside your head isnt it cody, but this is angelic not demonic so cut that talk of bridges and guns okay, please?
SUN im tranced out a little bit and you keep disappearing behind clouds disconnected, idle, you are back Genisius Calabris and there woody and then shit this song is giving me chills code, chills, genisius and i wish i was with you right now to tell you this and not tell you this but to hear this with you in my presence because you would know what its doing to me and i dont know how to say it or what i can say except please god, let her fix the hole, let her be his girl AND THE DRUMS ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god
you feel tragic, milk and rain feel lethargic
you are a mercenary, a soldier, a native american, this hair’s gonna get you… but this song is not a battle but its a slow descent through a spiral staircase and there are bubbles floating all over and your knees pop (not pop as in the noise but in the movement) as they find the next step and that’s the only quick movement and you miss it if you are careful to a slow bird out
and cigarette or 10 10 cigarette and match lit, inhale, heard that so many times and it makes sense here at the end, but it’s almost too casual because what came before was not and i think i see what you were going for, i think it’s the casualty that you want, that you’ve got coming for you–a casualty not of war but of a mercenary’s lifestyle, made to be in it for the money and you burn it up and it’s casual but that being with you and you know you’re dying (your hair) and you put it on there, i feel, as for all the other reasons that this one makes sense too: remember the taco bell parking lot (all those nights and sadnesses and … where did they go? i miss them) and you said you wanted an album with each song the length of time to smoke a cigarette and i said, “well, how long is that?” and you said “depends” and I said “So every album might as well be that one already?” and you said “no, but it’ll be different, this one… this one…”
Well,
this one, Code.
Echoes of Airplanes 