Snow in October

Some year and a half ago, I met a woman who sent me a photograph of herself playing outside in the snow. She also gave me, when next we met, a CD of songs she had made just for me. It was only the second time a woman has done that (friends have repeatedly done it). I hesitated just now about telling about the first time, but it is past now and doesn't feel essential.

One of the songs on the CD is Jens Lekman's "Maple Leaves." I quote some lyrics for you now:

"I think you're beautiful
but it's impossible
to make you understand
that if you don't take my hand
I lose my mind completely
Madness will finally defeat me

She said it was all make-believe
but I thought you said maple leaves
and when she talked about a fall
I thought she talked about a season
I never understood at all

I thought she said maple leaves
and when she talked about the fall
I thought she talked about Mark E Smith
I never understood at all."

Mark E Smith is the lead singer of The Fall, a band that once played in Southpaw which is near my apartment.

Last night I listened to this song perhaps 7 or 8 times. I sang it slightly incorrectly, I sang, "And when you talked about the fall, I thought you talked about a sea-sonnn!...I never understood at alllll."

It's one of those songs that makes you feel like a secret member of some quiet society, existing among lone travelers on subway cars and paused on streetcorners. I've been humming the song all day.

And yesterday was really the inspiration, a song called "The Death of Ferdinand de Saussure":

"But this is for Holland Dozier
Holland! His last words were-

You don't know anything
You don't know anything
about love."

Holland-Dozier-Holland were a songwriting team that wrote for Motown, apparently. How obscure and amazingly fantastic are songs like these? And how much effort is it to stay abreast of them?

Peace.