Sunday, December 9, 2018
2018: December 9th
Let's start the day with some Sabbath, shall we?
When I first moved to LaLaLand in 2006, I'd come home every October with a small cache of CDs. Eventually, of course, technology prevailed and my travel bag got lighter with the iPod; I bought one of those handy cassette to 1/8th jacks and music could follow me even in my Dad's truck, which only had CD and cassette capabilities. So far this trip I can't find that damned device, and in a search for something to listen to yesterday on my way to see Jonathan Grimm hock his wares at the Miskatonic Brewery's most recent art show, I found this in my dad's glove box, no doubt left by me several years before:
The find dovetailed nicely with waking up this morning and finding Mr. Brown had texted me that Pitchfork's Sunday Album this week is Sabbath's Paranoid, written by Grayson Haver Currin. I pretty much hate pitchfork except for this weekly column, and if you're a Sabbath fan, this is a great read. You can find the article HERE.
All this fits, because I can't come home and not become immersed in Sabbath, so the cassette was more a spiritual omen or reminder than it was a coincidence. My parent's place breathes Sabbath to me; some of my favorite and most vivid memories of the heavily wooded property where I grew up are of my friend Jake and I getting stoned and listening to Sabbath. Not just listening; this was clinical. We reveled in it, picking lyrics apart and building the exo-skeletons of our own philosophy around some of the words in the songs - especially the ones on Sabotage - the riffs and rhythms serving as mnemonic anchors, activation triggers for me later in life (sadly, Jake did not make it to 'later in life'; that's shit I work through in my writing, if you know where to look), so that the simple act of sitting in a car behind the house at 42 years of age and hearing the opening riff of Wheels of Confusion reactivates the assuredness Jake and I had at twenty-years old that the overall pull of the Universe was a positive, loving one, and no matter what I was struggling with it was transitory because that is the nature of our reality, transition.
Drinking with Comics tapes and (hopefully) streams live tonight on the DwC Facebook page, somewhere around 6:00 PM CST (that's 4:00 PM on the West Coast) at the Amazing Fantasy Books and Comics Frankfort store.
Playlist from 12/08:
Black Sabbath - Children of the Grave (Import version of Vol. 4)
Perturbator - B-Sides and Remixes, Vol. 1
No card today because I'm running out of time. Heading out to see this on the big screen: