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LITERATURE

 » Full Dark, No Stars - Stephen King's new novella questions mankind's ability to trust others.
[02.21.2011 by Bridget Doyle]

MUSIC

 » The Top 30 Albums of 2010 - Fashionably, fabulously late, our favorite music (and believe me, there was a LOT) of 2010, the year that some have called the best year for music ever. And only some of those fools work here. Plenty of usual suspects, lots of ties and a few surprises that I won't spoil, including our unexpected #1.
[12.24.2010 by The LAS Staff]

MUSIC

 » Live: Surfer Blood/The Drums at Lincoln Hall, Chicago, IL - Remember when Weezer used to put together records that you could sing along to and rock out to? That's what Surfer Blood's show was like!
[11.04.2010 by Cory Tendering]

Music Reviews

Screaming Females - Castle Talk
»Screaming Females
Castle Talk
Don Giovanni
Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
»Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
The Null Corporation
Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
»Deerhunter
Halcyon Digest
4AD
No Age - Everything in Between
»No Age
Everything in Between
Sub Pop
Robyn - Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
»Robyn
Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
Konichiwa
The Walkmen - Lisbon
»The Walkmen
Lisbon
Fat Possum
Ponies in the Surf
A Demonstration
Self-Released

Rating: 7/10 ?


January 21, 2005
I awoke to the newly risen sun's rays streaming through the window, warming me while I slept. The comforting weight of the many layers of blankets that pin me to the bed this time of year were instead too much with the addition of the unexpected solar energy. Throwing the covers off, the cool air rushed at me, a chill running down my spine from the drastic temperature change. Unbelievably, I jumped out of bed, not a trace of my usual grogginess that takes the better part of the morning to shake off. Hurried feet ran across the cold, wood floors, seeking the heat of a shower. The cascading water so hot, it would turn the skin red.

Dripping wet feet rushed back across the wood floor, waiting to be slipped into dry, clean socks. Feet now taken care of, I walked around the house, impervious to its lack of insulation. Without any temperature-induced restraint, I took my time down the hallway towards the kitchen. Hungry as I was, it was nice to walk around the house while it was so still. In this early quiet, I could wander around, letting my thoughts drift without being interrupted by the rush of cars outside or my roommate watching TV too loudly. The mornings were mine - perhaps the only time I truly had to myself.

But the kitchen had been reached and it was time to stop daydreaming and attend to that most basic of needs, eating. Settling down to a bowl of cereal, I flicked on the radio in the hope that some DJ somewhere would be playing music that augmented my mood and would keep me humming pleasantly all day. I settled on the first station with decent reception, but the soft tune was almost drowned out by the crunch of the cereal. As the milk turned the cereal mushy, I was better able to hear a boy and girl sing sweet harmonies as a guitar was soothingly strummed. I stopped eating for a minute and closed my eyes to let the song slowly penetrate my thoughts. I pictured the three of us sitting in the sand on a deserted island, the guitar sounding out lovely notes, and the two voices comforting my world-weary soul as we all drank piņa coladas out of coconut shells that had been collected from the shore earlier that day. The sand so warm, and I was so contented by the simple, elegant, music, I would drift off to sleep only to awaken hours later, rested, yet sunburned.

The song finished, I slowly opened my eyes as a smile formed on my lips. The bowl placed in the sink, I set out for the day, the smile still on my face and humming the melody that was sung so perfectly by the unknown duo on the radio.

Reviewed by Kevin Alfoldy
An aspiring global adventurer who cut his teeth on the sandy beaches and dirty bitches of Southern California, Kevin Alfoldy now spends his non-vacation days in Brooklyn, New York, where he occasionally finds the time to rub the crust out of his eyes long enough to contribute reviews and feature articles for LAS. A longtime staff member, Kevin also captains the tattered, often half-sunk raft of EPmd, our irregular column of EP reviews.

See other reviews by Kevin Alfoldy

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