Melissa's been listening to Fleet Foxes. She told me so yesterday, as we walked along Newark Avenue, into the setting sun.
Like old times.
"Fleet Foxes. You're the fourth person to recommend the album to me," I replied.
"Well, you know me, Ging. I wouldn't steer you wrong."
"This is true."
"And it's on
vinyl," she emphasized.
First Robert, and then Michael, and then Jon, and now Melissa. All of them listening to Fleet Foxes, and now I'm listening to Fleet Foxes, and, yes, it is good—a gentle mix of early Arcade Fire and earlier My Morning Jacket, but that's too simple. It is special. I should have known it would be. As I write this, as the music plays, the sky grows dark and a sudden rain taps against my office windows, appropriately.
It feels like forever since I last bought an album, though it's really only been a few days. I've been trying to hold back. Money is always an issue. But how much can this album cost? Ten dollars? Twelve? Fifteen? What's fifteen dollars when you can remember seeing the album in Robert's office, when you can remember an e-mail from a friend, when you can remember walking home, into the setting sun, with Melissa, each time you listen?
And her saying, "You know me, Ging. I wouldn't steer you wrong."
It'll make you smile every time, every time. How much is that worth?
"And it's on
vinyl."
Funny thing: Back then, I was still listening to music through
the Magnavox boombox. It's been so long. It feels far longer than only three years. So very much is different now. Maybe time knew it then. Maybe time knew things would be this way. I was listening to Sufjan Stevens'
Illinoise. Melissa had recommended it. Back then, I wrote:
It's weird and wonderful and filled with twists. It's like the beginning of something lovely and dangerous. It's like running into a beautiful girl as you cross Sixth Avenue at 14th Street. And there are horns and there are strings and there are handclaps and shouts and cannons. There is so much going on within these compositions that I can't help but think that I'm missing something important. The Magnavox AZ9345 just isn't cutting it tonight. Knowing that our Michael Fremer has had Illinoise in his heavy rotation, I have to wonder what these songs sound like coming out of his Wilson Audios. And on vinyl!
Maybe I'll soon know.
Hmm, maybe.
The Fleet Foxes full-length album is available from Sub Pop. I don't know where the guys from Sub Pop are getting their vinyl pressed, but I can tell you this: It feels and sounds especially delicious—heavy, black, and as quiet as night. Sub Pop seems proud of it, too. The "glorious, gatefold vinyl LP version," they'll have you know, comes with a free digital download of the entire album, as well as a complimentary copy of Fleet Foxes'
Sun Giant EP, also on vinyl. It almost seems senseless to hold back any longer.
As sudden as it disappears, the sun comes out again.
