So, I know it seems like I've been slacking somewhat on my "write more" resolution, having gone AWOL over a week at this point—but, in fact, I've been writing a sickening, daunting, patently hateful amount... of e-mail. Indeed, this is the one potential downside of my otherwise lovely & exciting new position as managing editor of Columbia's (brilliant, indubitable) arts & features magazine, The Eye: the necessary parameters of the post are such that, as I've taken to describing it, were GMail rendered real, my life would resemble that scene from the first Harry Potter movie, when all the thousands of letters are pouring in through the Dursleys' fireplace—except, instead of jumping & giggling like a cracked-out Carebear, I'm huddled in the fetal position, quietly weeping, until the swamp of envelopes swallows me whole. (Or, you know, just making the face Aunt Petunia's making.)
My point is, I'm still getting used to this new influx of textual responsibility—still figuring how best to juggle many the balls unceasingly catapulted in my general direction—so, for today, it's going to have to be quick, which means some more music.
Still, I'm confident that this offering is pretty excellent—especially for movie nerds & Pixies fans. (& honestly, if you're neither, I suggest seriously examining your life choices.) In short & in sweet, welcome to Kim Deal, backed by her original band, crooning away to "In Heaven," the song sung by the Lady in the Radiator from David Lynch's Eraserhead.
Her version is softer than another I have, where Frank Black takes up lead vocals—found, if I'm not mistaken, on the band's Complete B Sides collection. Where Black grates & surges, Deal remains subdued—only slightly flubbing the lyrics, just enough to be charming. Meanwhile, the persistent thrum of her bassline entwines effortlessly with the quiet pull of the guitar, tap-tap of the cymbals—soft & lovely & only a little terrifying, much like the best of things.