歌曲信息

歌曲专辑：Microphones in 2020

演唱歌手：The Microphones

Microphones in 2020歌词

[by:希文戳了你一下]
[00:01.083]
[07:38.997]The true state of all things
[07:49.842]I keep on not dying, the sun keeps on rising
[07:57.156]I remember my life as if it's just some dreams that I don't trust
[08:04.026]Burning off, layered thick
[08:07.574]A cargo that I haul
[08:10.818]Wounds and loves unresolved
[08:16.321]I wake up with the sun in my eyes
[08:24.346]The present moment tries
[08:31.032]But now I'm back where I was when I was 20
[08:38.224]Crashing through salal alone and mumbling
[08:43.751]One moment thinking I'm wise
[08:51.117]And in the next one I writhe
[08:58.338]Trying to re-remind myself of something learned then forgotten
[09:06.175]Countless sunrises burying the things
[09:10.743]I'd figured out the day before
[09:14.188]Like that I probably I won't find shelter
[09:18.152]In the arms of any other person
[09:22.211]Though I will try
[09:25.379]Again I'll deny the blanketing sky
[09:31.540]The thing I just realised for probably the millionth time
[09:38.747]That walking with my knees trembling
[09:42.508]Is the true state of all things
[09:49.465]
[09:59.003]The true state of all things is a waterfall
[10:05.298]With no bottom crashing end
[10:08.854]And no ledge to plummet off
[10:11.873]Full of debris and flowers, never not falling
[10:19.244]And in it we swim and fall
[10:25.314]Sometimes beside, often apart
[10:34.915]It's just chaos heaving
[10:41.482]I wake up with the sun in my eyes
[10:49.013]Beneath present moment skies
[10:56.482]Squinting and wondering how I got here
[11:03.559]Going through the contents of my backpack
[11:10.152]Shaking out the dust to bring some empty space back
[11:16.947]Filling a long merch table with artifacts
[11:23.491]Looking back to see if I could draw a map
[11:28.839]That leads to now
[11:32.647]
[11:33.334]I remember where I was
[11:36.996]
[11:46.749]When I was 20, or 17
[11:54.118]Or 23
[11:59.152]The disinterested sun would still rise every morning
[12:05.035]Same as now
[12:08.042]Dawn was loud
[12:10.547]I took my breakfast to the couch on the porch of the punk house
[12:17.915]Coffee and low tide smell and my life stretching out
[12:24.438]Spending hours each morning reading poems and staring off
[12:30.914]And then snapping back to urgency
[12:34.011]I did my dishes and then I would sprint
[12:40.144]To the studio again
[12:46.834]Spend all day and night digging in
[12:52.148]Distorted bass, spliced tape
[12:54.958]Singing lines like: "There's no end"
[12:59.254]And "I won't look for you in my room" about my friends
[13:04.147]
[13:07.614]I checked themicrophones(at)hotmail(dot)com like once a week
[13:14.633]I would drive out to the ocean and not tell anybody
[13:21.264]I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in a dollar theatre in Aberdeen
[13:28.037]It was a rainy matinée, 2001, Sunday, March 18th
[13:34.234]And in the parking lot afterward
[13:40.844]For a few minutes in the rain
[13:48.245]I stood glowing with ideas
[13:51.634]Of what I might try to convey with this music
[13:56.993]At that moment, my mind flashing like a blade
[14:02.421]A 22 year old in flip flops running around in an empty mall parking lot
[14:08.488]Lost in a martial arts fantasy
[14:10.701]It looks ridiculous now
[14:14.264]But the truth is that alone there
[14:19.547]Something was formed
[14:25.586]The way they held themselves upright with tea in the opening scenes
[14:32.363]A warm formality, spines straight and feet planted wide
[14:39.138]Untipoverable like the bamboo'd undulating hills
[14:45.800]Walking slowly, making eye contact and gliding
[14:52.638]The sound of empty wind when they sword fought weightless in the bamboo
[14:59.769]With a purity of heart that transcends gravity
[15:06.285]Leaping off the mountain into ambiguity
[15:11.579]Falling slow
[15:19.023]As the end credits rolled
[15:26.563]I decided I would try to make music that contained this deeper peace
[15:33.799]Buried underneath distorted bass
[15:37.064]Fog imbued with light and emptiness
[15:41.232]I kept on driving out to the ocean
[15:47.460]It was raining so hard, I was wet wool caked with sand
[15:54.644]I watched the dunes migrate slowly
[15:59.077]
[17:03.033]Lost mind in the tall grass
[17:07.219]And slowly the sound
[17:11.291]Of roaring waves returned
[17:15.190]I rose
[17:18.383]I returned to my station wagon with a wet face
[17:25.202]Extravagant solitude invigorates
[17:32.102]I drove back to Olympia clear headed
[17:36.490]Temporarily
[17:38.272]And went back into the studio to resume whatever this thing is
[17:45.486]This spooling out repetitive decades long song string
[17:52.135]This river coursing through my life
[17:55.064]These wild swipes at meaning
[17:59.670]And now I circle back to look into the spring
[18:04.875]
[18:11.209]When I was 17
[18:15.508]It was 1995
[18:28.261]I put the name "Microphones" on the tapes I would make late at night after work at the record store
[18:36.114]I was already by then a couple years deep into this weird pursuit
[18:43.518]Playing drums, copying lyrics out to hang them in my room
[18:50.661]Until I started making my own embarrassing early tries
[18:55.941]At this thing that sings at night above the house
[18:59.892]Branches in the wind
[19:02.266]Bending wordlessly
[19:08.663]I wanted to capture it on tape
[19:13.746]
[19:24.547]At first I called my recordings a different name
[19:30.878]I called it "The Microphones" on the third cassette I made
[19:36.321]Because I loved recording and the equipment seemed to be living
[19:41.617]And it sang to me like static interference
[19:46.184]From the small AM radio station down the street
[19:50.557]Night in Anacortes in the mid-90s, oil tankers rumbling
[19:57.674]I stayed late recording every night
[20:00.648]Then I drove back to my parents house
[20:04.838]My headlights through the trees along Heart Lake Road
[20:12.284]Winding down the dark slope
[20:16.498]
[20:20.580]I was already who I am
[20:24.478]
[20:29.437]A bottle of India ink, masking tape
[20:33.650]Julie Doiron, Tori Amos, Cranberries, Sinéad O'Connor
[20:40.867]Eric's Trip, Red House Painters, Sonic Youth, This Mortal Coil
[20:47.983]Kurt Cobain had died
[20:50.988]I had my driver's license and a girlfriend
[20:54.306]And we'd cling to each other and dream that anything's permanent
[21:01.454]Even back then
[21:04.407]The beast of uninvited change
[21:08.352]Insisted itself in
[21:11.557]And look here, it still hangs
[21:14.093]But when I was young (Young)
[21:17.912]I'd go driving in the rain
[21:21.941]
[21:24.804]I saw Stereolab in Bellingham and they played one chord for fifteen minutes
[21:32.006]Something in me shifted
[21:34.604]I brought back home belief I could create eternity
[21:38.823]Leaning the guitar up on the amp, taping down organ keys
[21:46.312]Feeding back forever distorted waves of cymbals oceany
[21:53.154]Slowly starting to try the move the words beyond
[21:58.225]Mere melancholy
[22:01.752]Into something that rings
[22:08.379]True and old and useful hopefully
[22:12.820]But when I was 17 I sang
[22:16.298]In the moment hurt romantically
[22:19.605]Grasping in the dark
[22:22.299]Like: "Shadows of the moon..."
[22:31.000]"On the back of the car seat..."
[22:36.338]"Where she sat once"
[22:40.254]It's not that bad, but I know I wanted to go deeper beneath pain
[22:54.149]Beneath the human
[22:56.906]
[23:09.587]Is it because my parents barely had any money
[23:16.573]And preferred to leave the baby in the garden
[23:23.065]That I grew up to blur the boundary
[23:26.019]Between myself and the actual churning dirt of this place?
[23:32.889]That it feels normal to me to speak with the voice of weather
[23:38.567]To build and move into a mirage
[23:43.488]Made of songs cascading down a rock face in a homemade myth?
[23:49.825]
[24:06.507]Even deeper back into the mist
[24:09.638]When I was 12 or 13
[24:12.992]On a family trip we hiked down a steep bluff to an ocean beach in whipping rain
[24:20.568]My little brother's clothes got wet from playing in the winter waves
[24:27.262]My parents made a fire of smokey driftwood and we huddled in
[24:34.607]And took his wet clothes off and held him naked above the flames
[24:40.554]Smelling like smoke and salt on the drive home
[24:45.662]Surely this experience explains something
[24:50.693]About whoever it was that sang all these songs
[24:56.665]
[25:05.146]When you're younger every single things vibrates with significance
[25:11.637]Gazing at the details in the artwork of a 7 inch
[25:18.450]Devouring every word in a zine
[25:22.619]There was barely internet
[25:25.018]Meaning gets attributed wherever appetite bestows a thing
[25:31.819]With resonating glowing ringing out through a life
[25:38.582]What from these times do I carry with me still?
[25:45.377]The things I survive return repeatedly
[25:50.395]And I find again that I am a newborn every time
[25:58.712]
[26:07.989]When I wake alone in the dark
[26:16.241]Again, I swim
[26:23.702]Out into the lake of the heart
[26:31.764]And in
[26:34.925]
[26:39.249]Mm...
[26:50.753]
[29:18.302]When I got back to Olympia from the ocean
[29:24.085]I woke up early before dawn to start recording
[29:31.535]The things I wanted to communicate had to do
[29:36.652]With finding out how to break out from seeing
[29:40.425]Only the inside of reflected ocean on the sky
[29:45.560]
[29:46.216]It was early 2001 and I was almost 23
[29:52.689]I'd finished recording The Glow Pt. 2
[29:56.664]And I was always on tour or setting up a tour
[30:02.163]Always running, voracious, thirsty
[30:05.618]I'd go out to the lake with friends
[30:08.266]Swim out to the middle and dive as far as I could
[30:12.562]Down to where the water gets cold, with open eyes
[30:23.036]We'd go up on the roof at night and actually contemplate the moon
[30:28.968]My friends and I just trying to blow each others' minds
[30:33.472]Just lying there gazing, young and ridiculous
[30:37.630]And we meant it, our eyes watering
[30:42.532]The moon without abstraction
[30:45.215]Then became a floating ball of a rock in outer space
[30:49.675]Not a sticker or a light or a hole through black paper
[30:55.821]We were making food and records and paintings
[30:59.777]And walking around beneath a real infinity
[31:06.409]I felt my size
[31:09.736]
[31:13.240]That brief dissipating shock of looking into outer space
[31:19.511]And seeing for just a second the bottomless distance pressed against my face
[31:26.980]My little mind trying to write it down, zooming out
[31:33.374]A faint yelp lost in a thunderstorm
[31:36.878]Sufficiently small, thinking on the geologic scale
[31:43.150]Making the voice of mountains
[31:45.287]
[31:46.229]Reaching beyond my old concerns
[31:49.562]From when I was 17 in 1995
[32:00.054]All the layers of life
[32:06.004]Glint in my flashing eye
[32:13.362]Simultaneously
[32:19.419]And at any moment we could die
[32:26.557]And so with urgency
[32:33.199]I keep a candle by my side
[32:40.389]And watch it disappear and glow
[32:47.108]At the same time
[32:52.112]
[33:01.028]The weather moves across the land and doesn't have a reason
[33:08.250]This rippling uncertainty beneath our bones
[33:14.541]Is still
[33:16.940]The true state of all things
[33:21.299]
[33:38.345]It was at a truck stop in northern Italy
[33:44.908]I was on tour playing drums and always wandering off alone
[33:50.491]Squinting into the setting sun
[33:54.774]My notebook filling
[33:58.402]I was touring, living on an alternate plane within
[34:03.841]But set apart from this life
[34:06.181]Where people wake and work and don't self-uproot each day
[34:12.976]Instead we passed through the towns like criminals
[34:17.513]I was so gladly included in this rare world
[34:21.977]This moving cult of groundlessness
[34:26.816]Roomless, moving, awake
[34:31.668]Across that parking lot, recognition of the same
[34:39.526]
[34:42.437]Another touring American band
[34:45.483]Bonnie 'Prince' Billy
[34:47.678]All dressed in matching track suits and sunglasses
[34:52.561]Grizzled and silly
[34:55.034]A kind of Italian tour costume
[34:57.839]Blending in but not really
[35:01.157]And their playfulness with persona
[35:04.287]Liberated me with permeability
[35:07.663]I thought, "Who is it even that sings
[35:12.647]And who comes to life
[35:14.769]Between the ears of the hearers in the rooms at night
[35:19.465]And how can we all get deep?"
[35:22.617]
[35:24.283]The packaging distracts from the nourishment it wraps
[35:30.117]Fixation on the singer's face or on the band's name
[35:36.532]Keeps us groveling and blind at the edge of a sea
[35:45.823]Unsubmerged in the singing waterfall
[35:54.179]Looking for a door into The Mansion
[36:00.873]Taking this weird art project out into public
[36:05.440]
[36:06.577]Indulging in cultivated ambiguity
[36:10.467]About participants' identities
[36:13.821]Letting misperceptions hang
[36:16.813]Because nothing's really true
[36:20.317]
[36:25.569]
[36:29.896]And then flying off as vultures
[36:33.984]And a universe beyond
[36:39.806]Innocent of the real air of death
[36:44.213]That awaited down the path
[36:47.595]
[37:01.417]At the very end of 2002, I took the Microphones name and crumpled it up
[37:07.873]And burned it in a cave on the frozen edge of northern Norway
[37:14.584]I made a boundary between two eras of my life
[37:21.364]A feeble gesture at making chaos seem organized
[37:28.180]The roaring river carves on, laughing at my efforts
[37:34.542]While the idea of something called "Mount Eerie" engulfed me
[37:41.807]And time
[37:45.569]Refuses to stop
[37:48.784]
[37:55.805]Many, many years later
[38:01.943]I heard "Freezing Moon" by Mayhem
[38:05.240]And these words jumped out:
[38:08.951]"The cemetery lights up again"
[38:15.816]"Eternity opens"
[38:21.787]And I say:
[38:22.852]"Nothing stays the same
[38:25.188]No one knows anything
[38:29.168]Someone else lives in the house I used to live in
[38:35.525]And soon it will be torn down or burn"
[38:45.497]And who would even want to live in a prolonged stagnation?
[38:52.924]I am older now and I no longer feel the same way
[38:59.184]That I did even five seconds ago
[39:03.211]Watch me thrash around
[39:05.594]And try to gracefully allow the past to hang
[39:10.141]Like: "no big deal"
[39:12.540]
[39:13.336]Bands that break up and then reunite for money can do whatever they want
[39:23.070]But it makes me glad that I am only this one contrary grump, impossible to reunite
[39:33.818]Live
[39:36.848]The present moment burns
[39:40.299]
[39:51.048]I will never stop singing this song
[39:54.676]It goes on forever
[39:57.235]I started when I was a kid and I still want to hold it lightly
[40:03.376]This luxurious privilege to sit around
[40:07.672]Frowning and wondering what it means
[40:11.867]Playing with words
[40:13.630]And trying to prove that names mean nothing
[40:16.402]
[40:20.671]A finger
[40:24.386]Pointed at the moon
[40:27.672]Mistaken
[40:30.204]For something shining and true
[40:32.808]
[40:37.769]I never used to think I'd still be sitting here at 41
[40:44.657]Trying to breathe calmly through the waves
[40:54.311]But nothing's really changed in this effort that never ends
[41:00.235]
[41:01.203]When I took my shirt off in the yard
[41:09.710]I meant it, and it's still off
[41:14.173]I'm still standing in the weather
[41:17.325]Looking for meaning in the giant meaningless
[41:21.808]Days of love and loss repeatedly waterfalling down
[41:27.195]
[41:33.475]And the sun
[41:38.448]Relentlessly rises still
[41:43.897]
[41:48.353]It seems like I'll never not lose wisdom
[41:55.766]Constantly relearning all the basics
[42:02.148]Never recognizing any faces
[42:09.213]Crawling out from under living layers
[42:15.719]Squinting in the light of the earth bathing
[42:22.497]Shaking off the weight of expectations
[42:29.129]Plus all this nostalgia is embarrassing
[42:35.111]So I walk into an unknown room
[42:43.893]Without a name
[42:46.032]
[42:52.025]So what if I label this song "Microphones in 2020"?
[42:59.354]I hope the absurdity that permeates everything joyfully
[43:06.776]Rushes out and floods the room like water from the ceiling
[43:13.337]Undermining all of our delicate stabilities
[43:20.019]Admitting that each moment is a new collapsing building
[43:27.115]Nothing is true
[43:32.144]But this trembling, laughing in the wind
[43:40.158]
[43:54.259]Anyway, every song I've ever sung is about the same thing:
[44:00.704]Standing on the ground looking around, basically
[44:08.073]And if there have to be words, they could just be:
[44:15.422]"Now only"
[44:18.536]And
[44:19.497]"There's no end"
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