In which I watch Joanna Newsom on Austin City Limits still drunk from the night before
Bones, I’m going to drink out of your water. I just need to… ughh. Guh. Okay. Whew.
Is this the song you said made you all misty-eyed? No, it’s not hitting me yet. I can’t cry, remember? It’s pretty, though!
This is cute. She’s so cute. I love Joanna Newsom. But I sort of don’t like how all of her songs have become the massive ten-movement operas. They’re fine sometimes, but I feel like maybe… it’s not that she’s lost direction, it’s just that she’s made everything so complicated.
I don’t care that she makes that weird face, and I would totally trade the Elmo-voiced songs of yore for what she’s doing now. I still love her, but there’s only so many times when you can listen to sixteen minutes of like five separate smaller songs.
And every single song is about a half-blind squirrel tumbling out of a hollowed-out log and being like “Chauncey, the boat is coming.”
Ugh, let’s go get brunch.
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