the matthew show revisited: week twenty eight
I'm not very good at belonging. Every time I get provisional access to join an in-group, I feel the straightjacket tightening, and I slip out.
In the twenty-teens, playing with popular outfits, I often found myself in the company of cohorts whose behaviors were comical to me. One night on the road, sleeping on an air mattress at a packed hipster house right next to the train tracks after a gig that was bigger on squinty smiles than pay, this song burst out of my subconscious.
And in the process, of course, I couldn't help but poke fun at myself. We are all of us ridiculous.