January 22 - Love Cuts The Strings

This song is a rolling stampede, and a mark of John's ever increasing assurance on all fronts of his musicality. It's urgent in tone, in tempo, and in subject, and like the best Mountain Goats songs it universalises through close examination.

I often wish I was better read on mythology, although I'm painfully aware that's a shortcoming I could take care of right now instead of posting about it. I have outlines, I read the Metamorphoses in translation and I cherished Ted Hughes' Tales from Ovid which came out in the first year of my English degree, but I could have dived deeper and ended up only knowing roughly what the surface of the waters looked like. It's left me on occasion having to depend on the insight of others and the lights reflecting off the surface.

In the case of this song, those lights shine fairly bright. "I count my blessings, but you can only be expected to count so high" is a joy and a lament at the same time. I sink into the chaotic, choppy waters of this song and ride in the currents for a while.

I've had an odd few weeks. This isn't about this song, I just needed somewhere to put it. My job is going well and badly at the same time. I love what I do and don't know how much more of it they'll let me do at this level. Someone I love is having to give up their vocation for the time being and I'm still going to be managed by the people who are (with care and kindness) guiding that process. I feel like I don't know how to feel. I feel worry and relief and guilt about the relief. I hope I'm not this tired all year.

Still counting my blessings. Still trying not to lose count.