I need a girlfriend who I can talk to about physics, a girl who would play guitar while I play banjo, who enjoys Stanley Kubric, Martin Scorsese, and Darren Aronofsky. A girl who could discuss the works of Ralph Emerson, Thomas Paine, and John Locke, all while we travel the world, decrypting it’s enigmatic existence.
Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg. Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes. It’s a duck blur. Might solve a mystery, or rewrite history. Duck Tales, ooh hoo! Everyday they’re out there making, Duck Tales, ooh hoo! Tales of daring do bad and good, luck tales, ooh hoo! When it seems they’re headed for the final curtain, cool deduction never fails, that’s for certain. The worst of messes, become successes. Duck Tales, ooh hoo!
Since the prehistoric ages, and the days of ancient greece. right down through the middle ages, planet earth kept going through changes, and then the renaissance came and times continued to change, nothing stayed the same, there were always renegades. Like Chief Sitting Bull, Tom Payne, Dr. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, they were renegades of their time and age, the mighty renegades.
I was in a desert, at some old hotel with select friends, and all of a sudden there was a plane crash, and a nuclear explosion, followed by a flow of bright lights akin to Aurora Borealis, then a bright white light, then it was black for what felt like forever. I woke up in sweat and my heart was pounding. It made me realize I’m not afraid to die. Which is comforting. Knowing it’s my, and everyone else’s inevitable fate.
“The words “I” and “Love” and “You” are the watermark of humanity. Strung together, they convey our deepest sense of humility, of power, of truth. It is our most common sentiment, even as the feeling of it is so infinitely uncommon; each to proclaim this three words with his or her very own heart and mindset of reason (or lack thereof); a proclamation completely and perfectly new each time it is offered. Uttered daily and nightly by millions, the words are said in an unending array of circumstances: whispered to the newborn in a new mother’s arms; shared between best friends on the playground; in the form of sympathy – said by a girl to a boy, as the respect continues but the relationship does not. It is said too loudly by parents to embarrassed children in the company of their friends, and by grown children – to their fading parents in hospital beds. The words are thought in the company of the photograph and said in the company of the gravestone. It is how we end our phone calls and our letters…the words at the bottom of the page that trump all those above it, a way to gracefully finish a message, however important or trivial, with the most meaningful gift of all: the communication of love. And yet the words themselves have been the victim of triviality, a ready replacement for lesser salutations among near strangers, burst forth casually as “love ya.” Truly? To what degree? Why, how much, and for how long? These are questions befitting the stature of love, though not the everyday banter of vague acquaintance. The words have also been twisted by the dark nature of deceit; to say “I love you” with a dramatic measure of synthetic emotion, a snare set by those who prey upon fellow humanity, driven to whatever selfish end, to gain access to another’s body, or their money, or their opportunity. In this realm, the proclamation is disgraced by one seeking to gain rather than to give. In any case, and by whatever inspiration, these words are woven deeply into the fibers of our existence. Our longing to hear them from the right place is maddeningly and simultaneously our finest strength and our most gentle weakness. The album “I and Love and You” is unashamedly defined by such a dynamic of duality. As living people, we are bound by this unavoidable parallel. We are powerful yet weak, capable yet temporary. Inevitably, an attempt to place honesty with an artistic avenue will follow suit. This is a piece which shows us as we are: products of love surrounded by struggle. The music herein is, in many ways, readable as both a milestone and an arrival. A chapter in the story of young men, it bridges the space between the uncertainty of youth and the reality of its release. The record is full with the quality of question and response. As far as questions go, there are plenty – normally residing within the tone and delivery of the lyrics themselves, which, ironically, are sung with so much confidence. Among songs and thoughts so driven and purposeful, the most basic and relatable doubt comes through with a resounding clarity. Outside of the eternal them of romantic love, the album speaks thankfully upon a landscape of light-filled rooms, word-filled pages, time machines, forgiveness, singing birds, ocean waves, art, change, confessions of shortcomings, and reasons to continue on. Hope and a cause for smiling continue naturally. In the midst of all this, there are allusions to the less-than-ideal conditions of life: the loss of memory, the inability to control temper, insecurity, indecision, jaded indifference, and the general plague of former and current weakness. “I and Love and You” is an album of obvious human creation, characterized by its best and its worst. Emotional imperfection is a reality for those who recorded the piece, just as it is for those who will hear it. The conclusion of the song from which the title is taken admits that the words “I love you” have become “hard to say.” And perhaps that difficulty is as common as its counterpart. Perhaps the inability to say these heaviest of words is as much a part of life as the lighthearted condor of those who say them without any difficulty at all. And so it ends with the phrase whispered to and by those of us most defeated and most elated…I and love and you…”—
The Avett Brothers, on the album “I and Love and You”
I just want to fight everyone I see, I now know what I’ll listen to during the zombie apocalypse. He might make absolutely no sense, but he sure can make you feel like kicking some ass and taking names.
Don’t mess with the best, white vest got the glock. B-O-double S-K press play for the rock, press pause for applause, cause of awe and the shock. Ram through the treetop, throw ‘em in the cell block. See, i like to wrangle Wookiees cause i do not battle ‘bots. I work them then I cut them, I do not collect their tops, I leave their domes alone. See scalping is for clones, like the baby Boba did you know his papa was a mold