by S. Quinn
Jordan Bogash invited me to see his friend Tom McMahon’s music video release. I didn’t know until I arrived that said music of said music video was my old favorite from 2004, Autolux.
Hobnobbing with all of the cultured contemporarians and juxtaposed with a band I’d been listening to since before puberty, I was struck with a strange sentiment. After mental investigation I found that the sentiment was futility, about my condition and Autolux’s. Here I am making my music, good things are happening, PARISWHEEL has more offers for music videos by producers and directors than we have finished songs, and yet here’s Autolux, so badass 7 years ago and still doing the same crawl through the hipster tundra of Los Angeles.
The event was at Wilshire and Fairfax, in the glow of the symmetrical lampposts softly casting shadows from LACMA across the street. Afterward I put on Thelonious Monk and thought about developing a persona, because when hobnobbing with the contemporarians, one can’t be too careful to gently avoid seeming genuine.
The subtle beauty of this little girl
I just don’t know what to say
Because I know exactly how I feel
Longing for the imagination of a time whose only remaining impression
Is a vague sentiment of freedom in a world of vague responsibilities
All that matters is how you move through the clutter
