Walking home along the gravelly gray mud that was given a fresh coat of lackluster, I look down, because turning up to ask why would only get laughter in response. Locked out of my dorm half-naked, no breakfast, no change to do laundry, wallet lost, bike stolen, and now it was raining on a clear, August day. The day raped me, gave me a shower, and tied it all up with a rainbow at the end, as if a funny colored condom would make up for the thing that it covered that was jabbing my spleen. Inside the dorm, I regret buying fluorescent light bulbs. They've got a longer life, but not a bright, joyous one, only a life lit enough to see all of the flaws. I collapse onto my bed, too tired to take a nap.

My iPod tries to comfort me, playing all of my favorite tunes, but all of them are too happy for me now. I skip until I hear something new, something unknown that I can think about instead of my shit for luck. Damien Jurado is next on the playlist. The light guitar strum and solemn string accompaniment was enticing like the artistic loner in an uplifting teen movie. I went to the album and hit play.

Jurado's voice had a warm but wounded sound like a fresh scrape, still stinging in intensity, but it's only the skin off my knee. Jurado knew that pain well though. He lived with that voice every day, but he never tried to draw attention to it. He knew pain, and sympathized. The silence that was in the spaces between lyrics and guitar strums was the kind that I had forgotten. I worried so much about the thousand things that were going in my life, some of them good, but a lot of them bad, that I couldn't live for me, for the silence, anymore. I could only live for the incessant noise of everything else that never even tried to harmonize to make my life better. All of the selfish noises didn't care about me, but I cared for them. Now I found something better. Jurado's noise wasn't incredible and illogical and without care. It cared. It made sense, and that was enough to be just right.

Jurado's voice was my lullaby. Calm and gentle, but still knowing what its like to be hurt, Jurado covered me lightly with a sheet, sent me to sleep, and made me forget about all of the noise in my life.

Similar Albums:
Songs: Ohia - Didn't It Rain
Rocky Votolato - Makers
Tara Jane O'Neil - You Sound, Reflect

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Paul Bozzo
10.09.2006