Please.

I can’t stand looking at your name anymore. It tears me apart. All of a sudden, you just walked out of my life — just as sudden as when you came in.

Away… I can’t believe it.

You know how much of a dreamer I am. You know I believe in love, even when the outlook is ever so bleak. But now… this time. I don’t know. I find it increasingly difficult day by day. Perhaps it’s only for the best if you left my life for good. People have said I should get on with my life. Stop living in what-could-be and start living in what-is.

Maybe it really is a sign of trouble when you’d rather live the rest of your life in a state of make-believe. I’ve always just thought that world would be perfectly adequate. But who am I to teach life to the living, when I’m barely that myself. God, I’d just wish you wanted the same as me.

No need to come to me,
When I can make it all the way to you.

You made it clear,
You weren’t near.

Not near enough for me.

(The xx, “Heart Skipped a Beat”) Maybe it’s just because you’re my first true, true love. The only person to ever really inspire me. To ever really touch me without touching me. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

My only hope is that this is a temporary eternal.

Be it days, weeks, months, years.

I always thought we would have a movie-style romance. Don’t let me down.

Please.

The best gig in the world, so far.

In a recent lack of inspiration I feel like kick-starting some sort of spark. And yes; I will get this spark from a thing so painfully boring you ought to just turn away now.

Do it.

GET OUT OF HERE!

….

Good.

Lists.

Well, perhaps just “list”. At least for a start.

MY BEST CONCERT EXPERIENCES EVER — RATED, NEARLY DATED, AND VENUE’D AS BEST POSSIBLE.
(It should be noted I will do my ratings pitchfork style. (Not meaning I will slash everything))

Coming in at #1, a stunning experience that exceeded my already-impossible-to-exceed expectations. A man from the West, a man whose concert you’ve all read about. You know him. You love him:

SUFJAN STEVENS : STORE VEGA : MAY 1st,  2011 : RATING 10.0+

As my introduction says, this was simply amazing. As my post concerning this concert says, this was simply amazing. I proclaimed The Age of Adz to be my new all-time favorite album, and so far it hasn’t let me down once, hasn’t been outdone and I haven’t stumbled upon ‘something from the past’ that has at all stalled its growing in my ears, eyes, mind.

From the very opening of the concert, Sufjan coming out quietly to meet 2500 dedicated fans, patiently awaiting what unpredictable move this man of the unpredictable would come up with, he looked like he knew we were all in for a treat. The slow, banjo-led Seven Swans started out. All stood in awe for the sheer beauty. We knew he was capable of this from listening to his records, but since he hadn’t played a concert in Denmark since 2006, my estimate is that only a few dozen in the crowd had witnessed this wonder live before. And just as we were all lulled in by the grace, BAM! FLASH! BAM! FLASH! BAM! FLASH! BAM! FLASH! In came the drums — and yes, DRUMS. Two drummers, both drumming their hearts out. It was spectacular, lightning showing from the drums as they were hit. It’s fair to say no one expected this destruction and rebuilding of the new-classic. The crowd was all smiles. Really, just this great, sparkling-eye look on everyone’s faces. No one knew what to say, but it didn’t matter at all. No words could have described the greatness we witnessed. No words can describe it even as I try now. I can only try to come closer than what I did at that time. And so it shifted throughout Seven Swans. Back to Sufjan alone, with his large, white angel wings, giving everyone room to breathe after the shock, and then back to the drum-powered new-edition.

People knew from that moment on, this would be a very special concert. And it became just that. Going through more or less the entirety of The Age of Adz, Sufjan showed what power his album truly possesses — not that it lacks any power (you know what I think of this album) — and proved that nothing is too big for him to take to the stage. I did have a fear that some of the immense texture of the album would somehow go missing live, but it only seemed to go even deeper. Astonishing.

I had a feeling he was a funny guy, but I had never imagined the kind of dry, American humor he has. The Age of Adz is so heavy, really an album you have to take fully in; digest. But he kept up his mood, even apologizing. I’m sure I brought up this quote in my post concerning the concert, but it deserves another showing: “Sorry about the melodrama. I have a nasty habit of confusing heartache with the apocalypse.” He had us laughing so many times one would at time assume we were at a comedy event rather than a concert. But that’s just the kind of artist he is. Knowing what audience he’s with, and giving them exactly what they want. And when you get what you want, and you’re positively surprised in all aspects and feel like your idea of what a concert can be has been expanded… then 10.0+ is the only rating to be given.

Sufjan Stevens rocks.

Next on this list is brilliant as well, and another of my true favorites — live and album-wise. They were the first band that really got me interested in music. You know, wanting to go search for music. Wanting to get to know other stuff than what was looping on the radio. They gave me my first truly great concert experience. They’re Icelandic, they’re jolly in a quiet yet dramatic way, they’re:

SIGUR RÓS : BEATDAY : AUGUST 9th, 2008 : RATING 10.0

As it happens, this was indeed that first truly great concert experience of my life. Outdoors, darkness slowly creeping in from east when they started out. The culmination of a grand day that had seen both VETO, Figurines, Mercury Rev, The Kissaway Trail and others perform earlier. All leading up to this monster of a headliner. I’m sure I seemed different to everyone around me ever since I got the ticket in hand, and haven’t ever really returned to the kid I was before this concert. I don’t think I’ve ever anticipated anything to the degree I did with this. I had heard — worshipped — Sigur Rós for about a year and a half when the concert was announced, and really hadn’t thought of anything other than my wish of seeing them life at some time. My wish was granted, and oh what a delight that turned out to be.

I like to rate concerts on the amount of time throughout the concert that I have a true out-of-body experience. This pretty much set the bar for all eternity. The only thing I can really remember concerning myself from the concert, was that some time between Svefn-g-englar and Untitled #8, I cried. Joyous tears. Other than that, I can only really remember a few screenshots my eyes took and printed to my mind. A few bits of the music from here and there. And the feeling of being utterly blown away, not really recovering my senses until a good 15 minutes after the concert.

I’m so pleased that they release Inni soon; the live-dvd from that tour. That is a must-buy for me, and should be for all people who like Sigur Rós — or just good music and big experiences. Thinking of this concert, I realize it probably shouldn’t be rated lower than Sufjan. Not taking anything away from him, but this concert was just equally sublime. It’s just *such a long time ago* that I had more or less forgot the extreme impact this concert had on me. Yes, put a + on this rating as well. It truly deserves it.

And now I realize the amount of work I’ve given myself for this task. And it’s already past midnight (not that I have anything I need to get up and do in the morning, though. And not that I’m actually tired) so I might stop a bit short of creating a complete list. I will either update this post at a later time, or simply make a new where I go into some of my other great concert experiences. Let me tease you a bit, saying the next part will definitely include some or all of: Beach House, Jónsi, VETO, Dirty Projectors, Titus Andronicus, Arctic Monkeys, Oh No Ono, Florence + The Machine, Mew and Prince.

Let me end this with a small impro-poem.

Sound creates a fear in me.
That this world will never leave me be.
I want to hang around forever.
For if you will not, then music will be my lover.

(The story I’m told,
Is burnt and old.
It speaks of a kind,
That would never leave one’s mind.

It stayed within,
Destroyed the human with sin.

Never able to let it go.
It ate, it stole.
Never able to find a substitute.
It excelled, though creating a hole.)

I will always look your way.
You will always turn your back on me.
That’s how I finally know:
Sufjan’s space-jam is the way to go.

Saturday never dies.

Just been scribbling some words while listening to Miles Davis’ “My Funny Valentine” in concert.

Came across this beauty,
Her name was hidden,
I’ll call her Judy.
The strangest of affections;
So slowly she was walking,
Down the street,
Every fellow wanted her talking.

Her white blouse,
Made love to her skin,
Oh to be a dress in her house.
Oh to be of her kin.

A tree fell on its knee,
Asked her the question,
Which demanded her talking.
Furiousity arose,
The chaps circling this tree close.

Judy knew well,
No word was good enough to tell.
She danced,
She swayed.

She walked away.

Standing there I was,
Left with nothing but a blush.
Never recovered from Judy’s eyes.

Same goes for the tree.

For us,
Saturday never dies.

French fantasy.

I love France. I love Paris.

The beautiful music you hear where ever you go/Old vinyls spinning in every little store, typically Juliette Gréco, that just sets the mood for a slow-moving day/Making your first stop at a small baker, buying baguette to last you through the day/Continuing by the waterside, until you reach a small stand where French books are sold/Moving on through Paris, smiling and waving – trying out my sparse French every now and then/Bonjour, mademoiselle/Letting the warm summer night take over, slowly pushing the sun below the rooftops/Go to a small jazz club, where the music takes you in – expands your mind/Taking the walk home through the narrow streets with my loved one in my arms, while we sing songs of love and happiness.

All about our fantasy of once walking around the streets of Paris.

Of making Paris the city we believe it to be.

The place to live.

Untitled.

When will I ever write something of meaning?

Something that’s beautiful, poetic?

I always talk and talk about how I want to become this poet that people will love. But I never write anything that comes close to ‘touching’. It seems I’m as slack when it comes to putting things in writing as I am at contributing to conversations.

I love words, but they leave me whenever I need them the most.

You leave me, whenever I feel we connect the most.

You get carried away above the big blue,
To a city that dares only close its eyes for a blink.

When will your own eyes open for me?
Are they already?
Though hidden in the night?

They shine such a wonderful green,
I can stare into them for days -
If only on a picture, I’m mesmerized yet.

You frighten me, greeting the world.

In my book of love stories,
It was just you and I.
Just a simple house.
A simple meal.

And a dozen rabbits.
I know,
You’ll always bring them with you.

But do me a favor -
Just a last one before you leave;

Bring me one more smile.

Like the one on our first, lovely eve.

If I see you through reality-glasses.

Our story could, from my point of view, be described very well by Grizzly Bear’s “Don’t Ask”.

All of a sudden, you just came into my life – and I into yours. I fell in love with you instantly. I felt like this was fate. Or, at the very least, one hell of a coincidence that had led you to me.

It’s a call
I fell into your arms that night.

Don’t ask.

We met each other for the first time one month after our first words. Typical 21st century we-start-by-cellphone relationship. We spent a day together at your place. It was amazing, you were the same girl of my dreams in reality. But as always, I’m too slow to do anything real about it. I went home, and sure enough, a girl like you couldn’t walk the streets alone without eventually hooking up with “the most handsome boy in town”. That slowly put our talk-rate down quite a bit.

It’s the time we had apart to sort things out.

Just don’t ask.

You asked me why I no longer wrote you the way I used to. I had to tell you, it was hard for me to find out just how to write you. I was used to fill my messages with implicit love. But it seemed wrong now, and you knew it. You told me you had a hard time too, but at least you were trying to write me in spite of having a boyfriend.

It’s the work you say you’re doing.
But baby,

I don’t even ask.

When you finally broke up with your boyfriend, the connection between us came to life again. But it was not the same. It was as if something had been lost. Something that existed in that first month, but was so roughly taken away in the weeks and months after.

It’s the love that came undone between us.

And nobody ever asks.

Sure enough, while I didn’t give you the assurance of love I wanted to, someone else came along to give you what you needed. This was my trigger, and suddenly I was back in the love-writing mindset – always making your boyfriend jealous whenever he saw what I wrote to you. You told me to knock it off, but still you liked the attention.

There’s a place and time for everything
I know.

Don’t ask.

But what was I to do? I felt I had to fight for you. You are and were the love of my life. I couldn’t just give you up. But given the circumstances, I guess I couldn’t just go all in right there. So when we met up at a music festival the year after we first met, I knew I had to try to hold myself back.

But when I’m around you still I lose control.

Just don’t ask.

 You seemed to like it when I put my arm around you. It’s still one of the greatest highlights of my life. I let you know how I felt, how difficult it was for me to not throw all my love at you. How I felt that every day without knowing you were mine could kill me, and that the greatest fear was, that if I finally had you, I would be ever so scared that you were indeed just my dream girl — and not made for reality.

You suggest the struggle goes both ways.
But baby,

I don’t even ask.

Now I’m at a confident point, I know that the love I have for you will be able to live in reality as well as in dreams. I know, that you’re the person I want to spent the rest of my youth with, and the person whom I can hopefully spent the rest of my life with as well. But it’s hard when you’re constantly giving me mixed signals. You want to do all these things with me, but at the same time you’re so inconsistent in your attitude towards me. Sometimes you can be just as loving as I am, other times you seem like you don’t even know me.

I hope it’s just because you’re in a phase now where you’re the one wondering if the reality will be as good as dreams. But still it’s killing me not to know what you want. I can’t wait for you forever, but I will.

I just wish you had a little faith.

But I’m learning not to ask.

Existential crisis.

Some might call it that.

Well, that’s how fast the mood can change. From living on a high just a few days ago, to suddenly being back in my depressive mindset.

Only fear
Can make you feel lonely out here
You learn to accept
Whatever you can get
Whatever you can get

(Deerhunter: Sailing) I think the trigger was a dream I had just before I woke up. My dream girl was kissing some bloke. Man it irritated me. In the dream as well as during the day. And it just comes ever so inconveniently, as I had just had a talk to a friend the evening before of how in love I am. Of how certain I am, that I will end up with my dream girl.

Walking free
Come with me
Far away
Every day

(Deerhunter: Desire Lines) Then again… perhaps the dream was just a wake-up call to myself. When asked to describe the term “dream girl/boy” to my friend, I told her it was a person that you’re so in love with, that you dare not even fully show it to them. Simply because you’re too afraid that the dream will be spoiled — instead of focusing on the opportunity of it leading to something great. Really great.

I actually think I – for once – am on to something here. At least this seems quite positive? That… my mind threatened me; it will destroy the dream of her and I ending up together if I don’t do something about it. If I don’t try to take things a step further?

And people say blogging is overrated. This is just the realization I needed on a day like this. Sweet. (Get ready for my post “dreams are not to be analyzed.” when it all goes terribly wrong.)

Well, then.. this kinda ruins the entire foundation for this post. Nah, what the heck. There’s all kinds of wrongness still to be talked about. Though I aced my two presentations in school today, the teacher in social study didn’t seem all too pleased. Well, why would she? I’m working against her and have been the entire year. But oh dear lord, give me a proper article to discuss. “Families split up” Wow. Exciting. Not like we all know that. Not like we have discussed that in the class a trillion times already. I’m only asking for something with a bit more substance. A bit more relevance. Something new. Something that’s interesting.

No one cares for me
I keep no company
I have minimal needs
And now they are through with me

(Deerhunter: Helicopter) There’s just too much waste in this world. Wasted education. Wasted time. Why do we talk about social changes? Not because they happen, but because people want to see some change. Thus finding it, spreading it through the news stream. People read it (well, they’re force-fed through their TV at least) and think; oh, those highly educated people must be right! Let’s follow the change in society. So, people create the change they were told was there all along.

And now we’re here. In this sickening network-job-money society. Bring me back to farming. Back to when every little town, group or family took care of themselves. Grew the food on their own, spent time together instead of one going to a job in one town and the other in another while the kids go to school in a third. And what are we taught in the schools? That the society is changing. So we follow.

Where do your friends go?
Where do they see you?
What did you want to be?

Ahh shut the hell.
SHUTYOURMOUTH.

(Deerhunter: He would have laughed)

When one of your dreams come true.

I’m living on a high!

Why?

Sufjan Stevens, The Age of Adz.

He performed his new show for me and the rest of Vega (Copenhagen) May 1st. Dare I say… yes, it was the best concert I’ve ever been to. He even outdid Sigur Rós in total performance. And people who know me, or have read a few posts on this blog, will know that’s not something I would put in writing and release on the internet if I didn’t mean it.

(if he’s about to start a show in a city near you; shut down your computer and get there. asap.)

I don’t even know where to start off when talking about this major event. I knew the chances of this being the best thing ever were there because of the sheer beauty of the album. It’s genius. The best album ever made, imo. But it just exceeded my expectations by miles. Right from the start, his live rock-version of Seven Swans rocked my socks off. I caught myself making earthquake-like drum-noises on my own while listening to Seven Swans off the album. They just added this amazing new dynamic element to the song. He could have ended the concert right there after the first song, and it would still have been a better concert than what most bands achieve through their entire career. But he didn’t. Instead, he followed it up with Too Much where he – and his amazing band, man they’re tight! – excelled beyond what should be possible! I had a bit of a concern that the songs off The Age of Adz might lack something live because of the complexity and the rich details he was able to put into the songs in the studio. Turned out, I really had no reasons for my concerns. Awesomeness will win in the end.

After this intense start came the first of many little breaks, where he told a bit of why and how this album came to be as it is. Not only is he – perhaps – the most talented all-round musician these days, but he is also one of the most humorous people to ever be on a stage. He excused the self-centered, heartbroken lyrics of the album by saying “Sorry about the melodrama. I have a nasty habit of confusing heartache with the apocalypse.” and went on with nice little anecdotes throughout the evening between the songs. Laid back and ironic at all times.

And then on went the show. Through one epic song after the other – as all who have heard The Age of Adz will know. Most notably.. I don’t know. All songs just fit in so perfectly. Well, Vesuvius and Impossible Soul are, of course, some of the extreme highs. Loved his robot/space shuttle outfit during part 3 of Impossible Soul, just before it all turned in to a grand sing-along party in the MGMT-like part 4 – and then bringing it all the way back down again to the beautiful finale of the 25 minute (more like 30 minutes live) track.

No wonder we all stood there clapping our hands louder and louder during the 10 minutes or so it took him to change clothes, before he then came back out to play some encores. A nice 3-song collection from Illinois, you know – just for gags, to end the night in a calm way.

What I’m trying to say is that Sufjan Stevens is the greatest musician alive. And will be in the future as well – both the near and distant. What he does is so over the top, but in a fashion that invites all. Attending one of his concerts has long been on the top of my to-do list, and I am truly grateful this was the concert I got to witness.

As I have often talked about; I don’t know what I want to achieve in my lifetime. I think I know one thing for sure now, though – I have to dedicate more of my time to Sufjan Stevens’ concerts. If that means I’ll have to travel a lot, then so be it.

This is a fix. And I need more.

Caught.

I don’t know how to get out of this; how to get away from you/You’ve caught me in your trap, sentenced me to a life in seduction/If I could make up my mind, I could break free from your pain/But my mind lost its will-power long ago; I merely follow people around like a tamed animal/Nature is where I can be myself, but you insist on coming to my house/You know I don’t want to, though I can’t say no/You know I think it’s wrong, but I just can’t tell you to go.

No tomorrow.

I often lay awake at night, hoping that if I don’t fall asleep there won’t come another meaningless day. But it never works. If only there was something else to wake up to than school, I wouldn’t have these thoughts, but it’s just so tiring from time to time. I have to attend a meeting tomorrow concerning my lack of handed-in assignments. It’s the second talk in 4 months. Though I’m only 3 or 4 months away from graduating, it wouldn’t bother me if they threw me out. That might kick-start my brain figuring out “what’s next?”. I’d love to be a writer, deciding my own work-hours and being able to take my writings to any place on the earth. Freedom.

I feel like I’ve developed a strong connection with poetry. Short poetry, mostly. Especially a late Danish poet, Michael Strunge. He made an incredible, short poem, that I feel attached to, which – admitted – frightens me a bit.

Nej, jeg vil ikke dø.
Jeg vil bare være ufødt.

(In english: “No, I don’t want to die. I just want to be unborn.”)  At the time when I first read this, I shared those same thoughts and it made quite a big impression on me. Hard to shake off.

But.. even though I’m in a rather depressing mood these days, I might end this post on a high note.

það besta sem guð hefur skapað
er nýr dagur

(Sigur Rós: “Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása”, in english: “The best thing God has created, is a new day”)