Thursday, December 31, 2009

the year in music: Veckatimest

Grizzly Bear Veckatimest

I remember driving with my dad through the countryside, a place that has not been annexed by any of the surrounding towns. These odd, amber fields in July were the long way to a park we were headed towards, a park along the Tualatin River, whose name I cannot recall. We planned on canoeing the river, but not today. Today was not a good day, there was not enough time.

There were people in the park, an assemblage of a hundred family barbeques. It was summer. There were pretty girls playing volleyball. We escaped the people. We walked along the river, finding secret pathways in the forest. We hiked through roughly hewn logs and makeshift trails, pointing out the foliage and looking out at beautiful views of the river. My dad longed after a few of the boats that rode past, once again commenting how cool it would be to have a boat of his own. I remember the sun, as I often do, glistening off the water, and that my father’s socks had fallen down.

All throughout the drive, he complained about the bass of Veckatimest, saying it sounded weird, like it was underwater (his ear was full of some fluid that whole week). By “While You Wait For The Others”, he cautiously admitted, “Yeah, okay. This song is really good.” It was the golden hour, in a field of wheat, and I was with my father.

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