Who Sung It Better?

When I'm stressed, I tend to listen to a song that takes me back to some memorable happy place. (And I like to listen to it over and over again, sorry roomies and neighbors.) Recently, it's been Neko Case's Hold on, Hold on. That song brings me back to my summer in London: while visiting a friend out in Northampton, that long train ride, the gray clouds and how the sun would shine on these bucolic scenes of sheep grazing pastures covered in wildflowers. How, when I saw her, we screamed so loudly some people stopped and stared. And then the redbull and malibu, hash cigarettes and a cute dog sniffing around our ankles. Sunning ourselves out on her backyard while the song blasted over speakers.
So I've been listening to it (over and over again, like I said) and saw a Marianne Faithfull version of the song, and then I thought about those obnoxious US Weekly spreads, of "who wore it better" and thought we should have a little vote to see who sung this one better.





I don't know... each variation has it's own melancholic perspective... what do you think?

-Kastoory

Crowd of Drifters

"Sometimes the sun is too bright And it burns you like acid
You get to love driving at night The moon is so close you can kiss it
I used to remember you smiling and waving
I don't think I can anymore "
Magnetic Fields, Crowd of Drifters



The roads are turning into firecrackers which light up under my skin and leave me turned on like a lamp. When I turn to take the lit cigarette from your fingers, my reaching leaves a shadow imprint under your lids, where my face used to be.
The computer keys click-click until the letter is typed, and I re-read it to make sure it'll have the desired effect, but I'm clumsy with words, they bumble out of my fingers like too many keys clasped in my palm, instead of making you weep it will probably just give you gas.
When you leave, I swear I can't see, for a moment I am blind and I think the last image I will ever have is your head turned away, your chin jutting into the air. But then the darkness grows shadows and pinpricks of light, as if from far far away, some distant happiness is beckoning to me.
That is the promiseland, I keep moving towards it, reach out my hand to touch it, and wait.