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      CommentAuthorRob Bass
    • CommentTimeApr 19th 2010
    I walked in at half an hour until last call, stumbled across PULL SHAPES on January 15th of this year, fell in love before I even opened the book, just that list alone, needed the rest right away, which proved problematic, tracked down the first series without incident and read and reread and dutifully investigated allusions and made mixes, etc, but couldn't find #3 and #4 of THE SINGLES CLUB anywhere in the world it seemed, special-ordered them from three different stores, who kept assuring me that they'd be along next week and it kept not happening and #s 5 and 6 sat on my nightstand taunting me and then #4 came in, but of course I couldn't read it, though the whole fractal thing was certainly an argument that maybe this time it would be all right to read them out of order but didn't want to break up the intended flow, was just yearning to find #3 anywhere, drove across Texas (well, a little part of it, not the massive distance that phrase implies) hitting quarter bins everywhere and even found #1, bought that to give away and kept looking, and at last #7 came out and I'm sure everyone else thought, At last, but I was shaking my head, whispering, No just a little longer, and still no Emily Aster but finally a couple of weeks ago, one of the stores called at 9:30 one night and told me they had it, somehow they had it, and I ran red lights in case there was some mistake and got it, finally finally had them all, forced myself not to gorge but dole them out one per evening for maximum impact and in order to track down references the following day, I haven't even TOLD you, I had never even heard of the Manics or Kenickie or The Pipettes or The Long Blondes or Los Campesinos! or Camera Obscura and somehow lived this long without ever hearing "River Deep Mountain High" and all of these notes and ideas have cranked my life up and infused it with this almost unbearable glorious seething rhythm, I keep trying to explain it to everyone I know but no one understands, can't or won't see how the magic isn't what's on the page or in the songs and bands referenced, but what happens in between, how we harness that gutter of musical space that borders our three dimensions and their two, what happens when you unpack every reference and allusion and track down the music and experience it for yourself and then come back to the prime text after letting all of those sounds have their way with you and make all these subtle and minute and tremendous shifts inside of you the way they do, just realizing it really all goes back to Emily and the mirror, the means by which we willfully transform ourselves into who we want to be, and I could go on and on and on, and probably will later, but this has been bubbling up ever since hitting that last page, well, since that first cover with Penny actually, obv, and I need to thank you, Gillen & McKelvie & Wilson, thank you for saving me in ways I didn't realize I needed to be saved, thank you for reminding me that the gorgeous distance between E and G# is as far as I'll ever really need to go, and thank you for changing me back into an obsessed and crazed fan ready to cut open his wrist for just one last dose of the good stuff, I almost forgot what this felt like and it is so damn sweet.
  1.  (3231.322)
    You're on fire, Rob. Never slow down.