EXPOSURE

My dear dear friend Travis was shooting promotional material for Summerstage (really cool internship!) so of course, I forced him to interview me. I am full of opinions, and apparently full of sass. Here's the link- I totally didn't stay past Born Ruffians, because no amount of indie rock love for VW was worth weathering that storm.

http://www.summerstage.org/index1.aspx?BD=21253

I am such a tool, in my white ray-bans. Wish I could embed this video. Also wish they used the bit where I said I was sixteen years old and went to the Death Cab summerstage show for my Bat Mitzvah

Except, roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair

This is the summer of my discontent, gravelly voiced, working class songsmiths weaving melodies from the lower registers-

endless amounts of Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Bruce Springsteen... Stephen Merritt, the National.

My womb music was bruce springsteen, I was possibly conceived during the Born in the USA tour, 1985. I don't know if that makes the space he takes up in my soul any less cliche, but I will draw upon the wisdom of Sabina Carlson to justify my shameless devotion to the garden state, springsteen love and all--

...Grow Wings from Your Wounds...We're all stellar, our friends, because we've had to claw ourselves out of the suburbs and onward to the stars--- through that brick red dirt of South Jersey and the apathy weighing ankles like boots coated in clay...
I am in love with New Jersey... and if you've never photographed broken glass in an abandoned casino in Asbury Park with a bohemian princess... if you've never seen the electric factories glow like angels on I-95...if you've never wished on a streetlamp when you couldn't see shooting stars... don't tell me New Jersey isn't beautiful...

Film comment--
My Winnipeg. My Winnipeg. My Winnipeg. So sentimental and bitingly nostalgic and genuine, in the best way possible for an ambivalent, experimental film about a mixed bag hometown, and escape, without answers.