(Source: banfred, via thisisnotnew)
(Source: fuckyeahuncleblazer)
“The album endures because of its music, not its mythology. And that’s not just because of the often-cited fact that it mixed folk and rock with other genres—Wilco and plenty of other alternative-leaning bands had already gone experimental in the ’90s. Rather, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s triumph was in how it captured a facet of human nature: the way we all send signals, hoping that someone will understand them but also anxious about what happens when someone does. You’ll sometimes hear the album get called cryptic, or self-conscious, or difficult. And that’s fine. It’s really a soundtrack for the ways in which people ask to be misunderstood…
The rise of the Internet over the past decade would seem to lend Tweedy’s lyrics even greater resonance. “All my lies are always wishes”; “I’m down on my hands and knees every time the doorbell rings”; “It’s become so obvious you are so oblivious to yourself”—these could be the drunken tweets of the poster-child for, say, the recent Atlantic cover story about how social media can isolate people and screw with relationships. But Tweedy’s really singing about a universal, timeless crisis of communication. That’s why so many people continue to take Yankee Hotel Foxtrot very personally. In high school, it sounded like Tweedy was speaking for me: This is how shy guys talk to people. In the time since, I’ve realized that no, this is how everyone talks to everyone. Saying what you mean is hard. What’s astonishing about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is that it actually did it.”
via What ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ Said
It is articles like this that remind why rock writing can still be worth a damn.
(via wellplaid)
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(Source: modernhepburn, via enthusiasmdocumented)
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From The Anatomy of the Brain, Explained in a Serious of Engravings by Sir Charles Bell—published in 1802.
(via scientificillustration)
