Yo La Tengo :: (Thin) Blue Line Swinger
On a sunny day in March, with a bag of treasures from my first-ever trip to Amoeba Records, I hit play on my discman and walked west on La Brea to get the bus to Beverly Hills. I was taken by the gentle acoustic guitar chords with the swelling Farfisa off in the background. Chills ran my spine and I started grinning. The usually smoggy air had cleared from rain the day before, the Hollywood Hills were as sharp as Technicolor, people were smiling and kids were playing on recess. It was like Pleasantville.
I flew O’Hare to LAX in the middle of a mid-March snow storm. This was a much needed vacation. I’d finally quit a job I should have left long before and I needed a break to truly get away from my life. As Georgia started singing, I felt like I was getting it. “You won’t talk about what you see when the lights are out and I’m willing to hold your hand while you’re lost, while you’re so full of doubt…”
I needed to hear this. I was going to be starting a new job, new people, new opportunities, but that was all in the future. For the time being, all that really mattered were the glorious strains of noise guitar, sun, spring, and this joy I was feeling: the liberation that comes from spring after months of snow and cold. I felt like Yo La Tengo had my back. “Out of darkness, you will come around. I know you will. I know you will.”
I listened to the Camp Yo La Tengo EP over and over and that same euphoria swept over me each time (Thin) Blue Line Swinger came on. I was storing memories in its melodies and harmonies. Memories of time spent with my brother, John, eating vegan pancakes, seeing Tarantino’s Grindhouse festival, the Museum of Jurassic Technology, John’s band at the Knitting Factory, and playing music with him. Now, more than a year later, all I have to do is press play and I’m walking down the same sunny street, and everything is a-okay. “…and I’ll find you. I’ll find you there…”
(Thin) Blue Line Swinger (5.1MB MP3)
Yo La Tengo (homepage)