I never got into the Dismemberment Plan. In college, it was the background music of my freshman and sophomore years, something I never bought myself but recognized instantly from persistence. It came to represent something in my life, something I avoided and dodged and didn’t particularly want to be a part of. I was fine not to care too much about the Dismemberment Plan.
But as always, Rudesy has amazing advice for the part of my soul that devours music, movies, television and literature. He recently told me about picking the album up again, how listening to it now he realized that maybe when he was 20 he really wasn’t ready for this album and what its really about. He said this album speaks to the late 20s/ early 30s set.
So I had Chiggs get me the two LP set. And since I don’t currently have a record player, I downloaded it digitally and put it onto the iPhone.
Last night I had a profound moment while driving down to Alexandria. Dismemberment Plan played the whole way, and just as Rudesy suggested, it really spoke to me. It was somehow nostalgic and new to me all at once, the weight of their words significant. Now, I admit to being in that place where the dumbest things set me off crying right now – children cartoons that I watch with my nieces, for instance. But for the first time in months, something struck me as profoundly beautiful, unbelievably good and thoughtful and compassionate and wonderful.
And I cried out of happiness and wonder.
I don’t typically like when people share song lyrics to explain how they’re feeling. But I can’t help myself. This is how I want the world to be for me right now. This is how I want the world to be for all of you.
You are invited. By anyone to do anything. You are invited for all time.
You are so needed. By everyone, to do everything. You are invited for all time.
If you don’t own The Dismemberment Plan – Emergency & I, get in touch with your friendly record store owner ASAP and get yourself a copy.