by Sean
Please note: MP3s are only kept online for a short time, and if this entry is from more than a couple of weeks ago, the music probably won't be available to download any more.


Image by Sophie Lécuyer

Jon McKiel - "Quils". Something came over Suhrid as he was watching his fourth straight episode of Sportcenter. His body was resting half-embedded in the purple couch; a dirty plate was sitting guileless on the coffee-table's glass; the street's sodium night-light had blurred across the vertical blinds. But Suhrid felt an eruption of impulse, of action, from somewhere deep within him; an arrowhead of will, somewhere under his heart, beside his stomach, lifting through his blood. He didn't budge, at first, just clenched his hands. Bulky men's voices filled the room, like tooting birds. Suhrid sat with his clenched hands. At a commercial break he got up and stood, kinda thrumming, in the middle of the carpet. He didn't know what to do to himself. He did two pull-ups with the pull-up bar in the kitchen doorway. He rubbed his face. He checked his phone. He wanted to write to his former lover, Stef, but he knew that he shouldn't. He started to do another pull-up. He stopped and he went upstairs, into his study, really what he still thought of as his father's study, with his father's books and his father's exotic office chair and his father's old strong sturdy beautiful wooden desk, more beautiful than any other desk Suhrid had ever seen, all polished mahogany and faded brass, where Dad used to sit for hour upon hour, writing long stories in wide notebooks, tiny handwriting between sea-blue lines, with a fine-nibbed pen and india ink. Suhrid came into the room and sat down behind the desk. He covered his eyes with his hands. He still felt this impulse within him, this spirit, this jump. "No, Suhrid," he said out loud, to himself. Then he ransacked the desk-drawers looking for a blank pad of lined paper, one of his father's old pens, some ink. And when he found these things he arranged them on the surface of the desk, unscrewed the cap of the ink-bottle, the cap of the pen, dipped and began to write. Dear Stef, he wrote, I'm writing you from a feeling of devotion that is probably just fondness but which feels, tonight, like a fortune-teller's-- But Suhrid stopped and looked at what he had written, and particularly the colour of the ink, which was faded and brown, like a coffee-stain, like the text in a forgotten Victorian ledger. The sentence was not yet finished and already it looked bygone.

So he searched the drawers for other ink, for jet-black ink which he unstoppered and wrote with, but this too was faded, leaving letters that looked like insect-tracks. Another bottle and another, all oxidized or dried-up; his note was becoming a rainbow of tired shades, old ambers, and Suhrid sucked back a deep breath through his nose, to keep from crying. He leaned back in his dad's chair. Stef had a level voice, an unwavering look. Stef had thick eyelashes. Everything about their relationship had taken place in a present. Not a future or a past but a true, cruel present. Suhrid didn't want to write any more. He didn't want to be in this empty house. He wanted to be by the ocean, or in the forest, where the consolations were not as obvious, or comforting, or false.


(image by Sophie Lécuyer(

Posted by Sean at March 13, 2014 12:48 PM

This is honestly beautiful. I am currently in the midst of a difficult break-up, and these words are much appreciated.

Posted by Brandon at March 20, 2014 2:53 PM

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about said the gramophone
This is a daily sampler of really good songs. All tracks are posted out of love. Please go out and buy the records.

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Said the Gramophone launched in March 2003, and added songs in November of that year. It was one of the world's first mp3blogs.

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"And I shall watch the ferry-boats / and they'll get high on a bluer ocean / against tomorrow's sky / and I will never grow so old again."
about the authors
Sean Michaels is the founder of Said the Gramophone. He is a writer, critic and author of the theremin novel Us Conductors. Follow him on Twitter or reach him by email here. Click here to browse his posts.

Emma Healey writes poems and essays in Toronto. She joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. This is her website and email her here.

Jeff Miller is a Montreal-based writer and zinemaker. He is the author of Ghost Pine: All Stories True and a bunch of other stories. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Say hello on Twitter or email.

Mitz Takahashi is originally from Osaka, Japan who now lives and works as a furniture designer/maker in Montreal. English is not his first language so please forgive his glamour grammar mistakes. He is trying. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Reach him by email here.

Site design and header typography by Neale McDavitt-Van Fleet. The header graphic is randomized: this one is by Neale McDavitt-Van Fleet.
Dan Beirne wrote regularly for Said the Gramophone from August 2004 to December 2014. He is an actor and writer living in Toronto. Any claim he makes about his life on here is probably untrue. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.

Jordan Himelfarb wrote for Said the Gramophone from November 2004 to March 2012. He lives in Toronto. He is an opinion editor at the Toronto Star. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.
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our favourite blogs
(◊ means they write about music)

Back to the World
La Blogothèque
Weird Canada
Destination: Out
Endless Banquet
A Grammar (Nitsuh Abebe)
Ill Doctrine
A London Salmagundi
Words and Music
Petites planétes
Gorilla vs Bear
Silent Shout
Clouds of Evil
The Dolby Apposition
Awesome Tapes from Africa
Matana Roberts
Pitchfork Reviews Reviews
i like you [podcast]
Nicola Meighan
radiolab [podcast]
CKUT Music
plethoric pundrigrions
Wattled Smoky Honeyeater
The Clear-Minded Creative
Torture Garden
Passion of the Weiss
Juan and Only
Horses Think
White Hotel
Then Play Long (Marcello Carlin)
Uno Moralez
Coming Up For Air (Matt Forsythe)
my love for you is a stampede of horses
It's Nice That
Song, by Toad
In Focus
WTF [podcast]
The Rest is Noise (Alex Ross)
My Daguerreotype Boyfriend
The Hood Internet

things we like in Montreal
st-viateur bagel
café olimpico
Euro-Deli Batory
le pick up
kem coba
le couteau
au pied de cochon
mamie clafoutis
tourtière australienne
chez boris
alati caserta
vices & versa
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drawn + quarterly
+ bottines &c

casa + sala + the hotel
blue skies turn black
montreal improv theatre
passovah productions
le cagibi
cinema du parc
pop pmontreal
yoga teacher Thea Metcalfe

Cult Montreal
The Believer
The Morning News
The Skinny