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Anchorage
Michelle Shocked
Short, Sharp, Shocked
1988

I've already told you that the first song I picked for this week's theme turned out to be all wrong.  It was cold.  And, while I do go back to it over and over again, I didn't have the urge to curl up with it (as I am apt to do with my fuzzy blanket whilst on the couch in my living room).

I've loved Michelle Shocked since I discovered Short, Sharp, Shocked among my dad's records in the basement.  He had moved out, but left his thousands of records behind.  My mom gave me the guest room in the basement as a kind of "clubhouse".  I was allowed to decorate it any way I wanted and inherited the rejected living room set and other lonely pieces of furniture.  I painted Wilco lyrics on the walls.  Glued on pictures of butterflies.  Painted and adorned dozens of picture frames.  Spruced up the furniture with all of the leftover paint we had in the basement.  The room was small.  Carpeted.  It had it's own heater, so it was always toasty.  The pièce de resistance was my dad's record player.  The hook up wasn't that great--the speakers buzzed and popped and it was hard to regulate the volume.  BUT, it was a really awesome time--I had this space that I could use to get acquainted with so many great albums and artists.  It was exciting because often I would pull a record out of a tight-packed row and just listen...without any predilections.

I liked the look of this album as soon as I pulled it out.  I loved the bright pink of the text--it looked like it had been written on in lipstick.  And this screaming, fighting woman (it's Michelle Shocked at a protest in San Francisco, actually)...she intrigued me.  She certainly was passionate about something.  Sometimes I really love a song with a good narrative.  When I heard "Anchorage" for the first time, it was like listening to a story read aloud.  Michelle Shocked's voice was so warm and, even with the shaky equipment set-up, it filled the room. 

I love the subtlety of the lyrics and the story that can be fleshed out (OH GOD, EDUCATION TERMINOLOGY) from what you, as the listener, are given.  I love those first two lines, the beginning of the story: "I took time out to write to my old friend/I walked across that burning bridge."  I love the play on "anchored down" and "Anchorage".  I like that the listener can fill in the gaps: 

"Hey girl I think the last time I saw you
Was on me and Leroy's wedding day
What was the name of that love song you played?
I forgot how it goes
I don't recall how it goes"

Those lines make me think and feel all these different things simultaneously.  It says something about the friendship of these two women...and about the break in their friendship (I get the sense that something happened between Leroy and the speaker).  And about her friend's marriage (it's not really about a love song anymore...no matter how many times I listen to this song, I can't decide whether or not the friend is happy).  The sound of the steady drum beat and folksy guitar and that organ and the violins create this atmosphere that's both cozy and kind of uncomfortable.  It makes me think of the sensation you can sometimes have when reconnecting with an old friend.  Like you are going back to something that is so reassuringly familiar, only to find that it isn't quite the same...something is ever so slightly off-kilter.