Friday, 11 December 2009

30. Spiders (Kidsmoke), Wilco (2004)

This is March 2005, the motorik beat taking me towards the Hammersmith Apollo, the motorik beat giving the room a warm, steady pulse, the motorik beat taking me towards him again. The beers, the eye contact, the bus home, the unscheduled stop. The six months of watching, waiting and hiding, then saying and doing.

This is March 2009, two girls in Seattle about to broach the West Coast. That motorik beat – three times on the radio in only two days, charging around our twin room at the Ace Hotel, our cases spilling with colours, Belltown buzzing outside, pushing us out towards the Public Library, all yellow neon escalators and ruby red rooms, to Ivo's House Of Clams, shot glasses glimmering with oysters, to the Public Market, the Redwood, the Bauhaus, the Space Needle.

It returning briefly in Portland, like a happy echo. A motorik beat saying so much about him and the life I once had, and the life, once again, that I was about to take back.

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