Pylon was and is a band that transcends any genre. Sure it's punk. Or pop. Or jangly indie guitarbassdrumshauntingvocals music that depending on who is listening speaks to the classifications we all use to help define things, but mostly ourselves. This song tells so many stories at once, about how we perceive ourselves, how we survive, how we help each other out. I've listened to it once or three times a day for over a month now, and it just feels stronger. The single was released in 1981. I don't think I can get sick of it.
Yesterday was his birthday
The Apology
Choppy waves smack the rocks we're standing next to, you against the truck you borrowed, me with just the wind hitting my back. The sound of the cars on the freeway mixed with the choke in your voice confuses me when I try to hear you tell me I don't really remember what happened because I might have rape trauma. I decide to just stop talking. You tell me you can account for hours that I'm missing in my narrative. It's true. I don't remember anything you're telling me. Your mouth just starts flapping like the foam on the rocks below and the fog in my brain creeps in too. I just narrow it down to the part I remember the best; I was rifling through your desk drawer looking for something to stab you with, while you blocked the door so I couldn't get out of the room.
*this writing was submitted to Zoe Leonard for her art show...stay tuned for details about that
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