[identity profile] cabaretlights.livejournal.com


Imperfectly
Artist: Veruca Salt
Album: Resolver
Year: 2000
: This week more than ever, I wanted to capture a feeling -- in a way only music can; to explain this theme, without words.

As always, I had my potentials, but the back of my mind always knows I can't really post a potential. I need that hit, that smack in the face of oh yes, this is the right song. And it's quite fitting that, for this particular theme, that smack in the face happened in bed with you. Last night, as my internal speakers started playing "Imperfectly," I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it instantly. The feeling I have about lazy mornings is, perfectly, exemplified in this song.

Though the lyrics have their own merit (you know me and honest love songs: "How can I help you if I am weak / If I don't know how to help me / But I love you, I love you"), it's the music and the atmosphere that transport me to a Saturday at 10am. Louise Post's voice seems as lazy as the morning, as if she's singing while lying down, sometimes no louder than a whisper -- one of those magic, eminently imperfect (but, consequently, spectacular) takes that can't quite be replicated. The first 3 minutes of the song are a music box: gentle percussion and simple melodies, uncomplicated instrumentation and quiet guitars. The images that flash through my mind are ones I never thought I'd have, or at least, never in a personal capacity. Waking up warm and feeling that slowly-becoming-familiar rush of bliss as I remember who is next to me. Forehead to forehead, watching pupils dilate. Drifting back to sleep with someone curled around, into me. Quiet (with the occasional sound from outside) peace: in the apartment and in myself.  The quality of mid-morning light filtered through venetian blinds.


But much as I love those lazy mornings, at some point they have to end.
Around 2:50. the music box snaps closed and sleepy eyes fly open. It is still beautiful, twisting and twirling, but there is an urgency to the music and to Post's voice; there is a shift in mood. Lazy mornings end; one in particular comes to mind, and the images in my head shift from peaceful to potent, vibrant. Urgent. Alive. Different, again, from anything I'd expected for myself.

I love that this song shifts. That it can't sustain itself, that something has to change -- because something always does. It's not only lyrically but musically honest: reality hits, pulling you away from lazy mornings. And sometimes that something is a hurried start to a work day, but sometimes reality is something else entirely.
"I love you, imperfectly": there is no right or wrong about that shift from a lazy morning to a kinetic one. Imperfect may not be the right word, but the sentiment is bang on: there is no objectivity, here -- there can't be one definition of 'perfect love.' And 'perfection' on a lazy Saturday is impossible, because a lazy Saturday is no one's but mine,
and yours,
and no one else can see that or feel it, not the way we do (or the way anyone else feels theirs).

I appreciate the acknowledgement of that, in this song, the quiet awareness of shifts and changes, and I love how honest every "I love you" is. It won't be static, it might not be typical, but dammit, Louise Post fucking loves this person. And lazy mornings end, but there is always something beautiful waiting. The contrast is what makes this song -- and those moments -- so fucking perfect.

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