by Emma
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.


[Emma Healey, who has written for us in the past, is going to be our August guest. She's wonderful, so enjoy.]

Feel Alright - "Get Gone"


So okay. I've been here before. Two years ago I wrote two different posts for this site; one was about heartbreak, and the other was about Canadian federal politics. At the time I was living in Montreal and had just had my heart broken, but serious real - like, dry ice, kitchen floor, shatter-hard. This isn't strictly speaking an important or essential detail, but sometimes it's nice to have context. Between the two posts there were 3.5 songs. One of them came from a mix CD my friend Mike made for me.

Right now I live in Toronto, but I'm writing this from New York, in a friend's apartment. The last time I came to this city was two years ago - two weeks after I'd written those posts for this site, a month or so after the breakup. The trip was one we had planned together; I was going to take the train and he was, I think, driving. The plan was to meet. In Canada the national rail line is called Via, as in conjunction and nothing else. In America it's different. On an Amtrak train you can purchase and eat a whole DiGiorno Solo Cheese Pizza For One on your lap with a knife and fork and people do not look at you and think What a sad young woman or wonder if the pizza tastes at all like the sinkhole that's opened up and is widening steady for four weeks and counting between and against you, your ribs, at least not for that reason alone. It's just what they serve in the Café Car. On Via they have cold pasta salad and you don't even stand up to get it. People think Canada and America are pretty much the same place but the border between them is both clear and guarded for a reason.

One of the songs on the mix CD Mike gave me two years ago, two days before I got on the train, was one that he'd already sent to me a couple of weeks beforehand, post-breakup but pre-posts, when I'd been panicking about what to write. "You'll like this, I think. It'll work," he said, which it did. I listened to the song, I wrote the thing, everything turned out fine, in this life it's important to have friends who know better than you. The rest of the songs I'd never heard before. "It's music to be sad on a train to," is what he said when he handed it over. Via used to have these display/signage panels hung up behind the Information desks in a lot of their larger stations; the one in Montreal was positioned so that if you glanced to one side, while waiting in line, you'd end up staring for minutes on end. They were these huge maps of the whole country, cut out of wood or thick board, colour-gradient in from the outside like in a high school textbook. For each train station in the country there was a small hole drilled into the map, in the right place and scaled to size, and then the whole thing was backlit so that all the points glowed. There were lines drawn between the stations to show you the trains you could take to get between them. For months, two years ago, after that trip, I had this dream where I pulled each city off the map and swallowed every route like its own string of Christmas lights until I glowed from inside with all the ways a person could possibly choose to stop. They've since replaced all the maps with plasma-screen TVs, which display advertisements and are probably for the better. In most cases, there are two ways a person can do things: swallow cities or don't. Move into or away. Get the pizza or run. I listened to the same CD all the way through on my trip here again, the same as I did last time. You can travel from one city into the next to escape the same thing you had planned and bought tickets to meet there a month ago, you can sit on the train in the future and stare at the ghost of yourself in the same songs you didn't know then, you can live in this city or that one, whatever. There's a through line between things but it's not always clear if it's route or a fault or the point at which things get divided. This song isn't one of the ones that got me here, but it could be. It's important sometimes to refer to conjunction as just what it is. I am flying back home in the morning.

[this is a new song, but Buy hahahahahahaha from Bandcamp]

Posted by Emma at August 9, 2013 9:17 AM

i haven't been here for a while... thanks for the song!

Posted by Sean at August 10, 2013 5:09 AM

great song, even better post. looking forward to the rest of the month.

Posted by Maks at August 16, 2013 4:49 AM

..people like to think there's this grand difference between countries or people.. turns out, it's more than likely just your nationality showing.

Posted by kafka at August 19, 2013 12:45 PM

Post a comment

(Please be patient, it can be slow.)
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.

To hear a song in your browser, click the and it will begin playing. All songs are also available to download: just right-click the link and choose 'Save as...'

All songs are removed within a few weeks of posting.

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

If you would like to say hello, find out our mailing addresses or invite us to shows, please get in touch:
Montreal, Canada: Sean
Toronto, Canada: Emma
Montreal, Canada: Jeff
Montreal, Canada: Mitz

Please don't send us emails with tons of huge attachments; if emailing a bunch of mp3s etc, send us a link to download them. We are not interested in streaming widgets like soundcloud: Said the Gramophone posts are always accompanied by MP3s.

If you are the copyright holder of any song posted here, please contact us if you would like the song taken down early. Please do not direct link to any of these tracks. Please love and wonder.

"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.
our patrons
Said the Gramophone does not take advertising. We are supported by the incredible generosity of our readers. These were our donors in 2013.
watch StG's wonderful video contest winners

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
+ paltoquet, cocoa locale, idée fixe, patati patata, the sparrow, pho tay ho, qin hua dumplings, caffé italia, hung phat banh mi, caffé san simeon, meu-meu, pho lien, romodos, patisserie guillaume, patisserie rhubarbe, kazu, lallouz, maison du nord, cuisine szechuan &c

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