This song has the replay value of an old stationwagon. The rhythm of a much-tar-stripped country road. A melody like the sun poking under the pulled-down visor. Lyrics like an old Babysitter's Club book, the only thing to read in the glove compartment. It's a car trip, a Sunday, warm when you close your eyes. And the air is much easier to move through than to breathe. [More]
Destroyer - "From Oakland to Warsaw"
Dear Roger,
I'm sorry I ever said Your Blues sucked. I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you tried to defend it's glowing, pulsing beauty. When you said, rightly, that it's perfect for walking in the woods. I'm sorry it took me 3 years to understand the yellow, bejeweled and bejangling currents of this album.
yours, Dan
ps. hope you're well.
--
Dear "From Oakland to Warsaw",
Thank you for your strident, stalwart posture, and your howling bursts like striking diamond-studded windchimes with a rhinestone-studded leaf blower. Thank you for being the unassuming yet garish, lavish yet humble, chapter of the book that makes you finally realise "hey wait, this whole thing is genius."
yours, Dan
ps. hope you're well.