Honestly, I can’t believe I’ve never written a
John Vanderslice post here. Vanderslice is one of my favorites; an artist I keep coming back to over and over again for his incredible lyric/song-writing skills, super strength studio prowess (or uhm…
his studio?) and general awesomeness. I’ve yet to hear a bad album from this man, and I think his latest,
Emerald City, is one of the best. Not to mention the fact that his live shows never disappoint (I once somewhat wastedly sang “Letter to the East Coast” with him as part of his audience participation tour at his Maxwell’s stop. Good times).
The drug amitriptyline is approved most commonly for the treatment of depression. The song on the other hand, a memoir-like composition narrated by a sad schizophrenic, doesn’t shy away from tugging at the heartstrings.
Amitriptyline.mp3 I was a quiet, lunch box lonely little boy,
Reading sci-fi, broken treehouse on the shore.
Nineteen, talking in my head got harder to understand:
No work, no school, drifting; a failing satellite.
Don't feel sorry for me. I've been happy too,
Manic, kindly, blinding, high-res euphoria.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment