when I was young
I would go to record stores
study the album covers
imprint upon my brain
the way men and women lived
so hippies, to me, wore blue suits
children in the south wore nothing at all
English men with beards got the best white ladies
the ones who wear makeup but no shoes
indoors in afternoon
when I was young
there was a man they called the critic
he had a booth all to himself
at the listening station
the critic had long stringy hair
he smoked a pipe inside the store
he never smiled
I imagined this is how they all look
the men who make decisions
like four stars or four and a half
Robert Christgau
Dave Marsh
later when I saw their pictures
I realized I was wrong
all bassists wore afros
all drummers looked away
the men who wrote the songs held objects in their hands
birds were significant
cats suggested danger
in the same way as a man selling pretzels near a park
when I was young
I thought to love someone
you'd have to iron on their name
on a black shirt one size too small
I was 12 when they told me
I'd have to wear glasses
that’s when it changed
I learned they filled the background
with extras who suggested
mystery, a weight, an angle
and they did this to distract you
so you wouldn't stop listening
this is why the critic
never looked at the covers
he only looked at the labels
so he could write down the songs
and count the stars he'd give
empty buildings evoked loss
especially if the paint was peeling
and the cars in front were old
a singer sitting in a chair
meant he was fat and sad from drugs
if he were happier, he'd stand and welcome you
but most of all, from when I was young
I remember this:
montages are creepy
August 2002
11.07.2006
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