It’s kind of sad that music can make you feel more than real life can sometimes.
Sometimes, I am completely numb, and only music can stir something in me emotionally.
I’m in one of those periods.
Colin Meloy is the frontman of The Decemberists.
He writes these amazing fanciful lyrics that I don’t always understand, but they are beautiful words and beautiful sounds when he sings them in his beautiful sad voice, and I can dig what he’s saying, even if I don’t really get it intellectually, and it feels like he’s saying it to me, that he’s written it for me, that he’s singing to me, and I close my eyes, and I know he’s sitting over there, just where the speakers were when my eyes were open just now, and he’s singing to me, hoping to crack past that numbness that has recently taken over me, and he’s succeeding, he’s succeeding, and every time he succeeds, he inches closer, he digs deeper, until I am finally feeling something, I’m feeling everything, it’s an avalanche, and I’m an emotional wreck, weeping at his feet, begging for more.
He says, “Oh what a rush of ripe elan.”
That’s why Colin Meloy is my boyfriend.
Though maybe I should rework this and call it, Colin Meloy’s Voice Is My Boyfriend.