Monday, November 14, 2005
Kate Bush -- A Coral Room
You know, last week I was reading a lot of Chabad-related stuff, especially about the apparently-prevalent belief that Shneerson, their last Rebbe, was Moshiach, and how Chabadnicks tend to believe one of the following three things as well about their Rebbe-- 1) the Rebbe isn't really dead at all 2) the Rebbe is dead, but is coming back to life as Moshiach 3) not only is he coming back, but he's Divine to boot!
Now, last week, this all seemed insane. It seemed like every Lubavitcher was some variant of kook. I mean, he was nice and all, but Moshiach? Where's the lamb lying with the lion? Where's world peace? Where's the rebuilt temple? But at the very same time, something odd was happening, something so magical and unexpected that it totally changed my opinion.
For Kate Bush fans, the last twelve years have been a long, long, long, long time. The wait for the next Kate Bush album even inspired a book called "Waiting for Kate Bush" that appears to be about a fan who puts off killing himself if he can be assured that Kate Bush releases her CD within six months -- he'll still kill himself, I think, but after hearing her new CD. And for me, I'd been waiting for such a long time, and seeing such sketchy information on the web, that I hadn't even been paying attention this year. I'd given up hope, I guess. She had her man, she had a little boy, she was probably too happy. It was just as well.
So imagine my surprise when I stumble upon her new CD and glowing reviews all over the internet! How did this happen without me knowing? Not only did she put out a CD, but a double CD with 16 tracks and two major song-cycle thingies and songs that are as unabashedly Kate as ever but even better. She has made a CD that's so domestic in focus it even out-domesticates Bjork's Vespertine. So it's all I'm listening to. It's just amazing.
When I was a little boy, I had a nap and dreamt I had a blue balloon in my hands. When I woke up I reached for the balloon. It wasn't there. The wonder and disappointment, all mixed up, as I realized the balloon wasn't real is something I still can feel today. Kate Bush releasing an album gives me the feeling of dreaming I have a blue balloon, then waking up and having the blue ballon in my hands, smelling of ozone and crackling with static electricity from its voyage from my dream to my waking life.
So now the silly, the impossible, the heretical? Bring it on. It's all possible. But I don't want Moshiach quite yet -- I'm busy listening to Aerial, a gorgeous, unexpected gift of an album.