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Archive for the ‘Lemuria’ Category

Bugbear

Bugbear – Lemuria

It’s Lemuria season here. I love in this song near the end when it stops “Bug…” and then comes back after a beat “…Beeeeaaaaarrrrr.” It’s an obvious thing to love and i do. I still haven’t heard their most recent album, Pebble. The one on Bridge 9, maybe because it’s on Bridge 9. I know nothing about that record label except a vague transmitted sense that it’s uncool jock jocking and on the wrong side of correct, and that Lemuria were added to their “roster” to bring some diversity to it. I wonder if there was a backlash from the faithful? And it’s because of this record being on this label that it has managed to avoid all my usual distro routes and i don’t know where to find it. Maybe Resist has it. For $40. Yes, i’m one of those people.

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The Origamists

The Origamists – Lemuria

Lemuria sing a lot about sex. Openly, maturely, intimately, personally. It was new lyrical ground in the pop punk sphere, or at least a new approach to it. No more timid, distanced songs of desire, of wanting to do do things never mentioned, of bodyless coupling. It’s out. We’re adults now. We have fleshy things within us, on us, that are pleasurable and pleasurable when shared with others.

I’m not sure if any other bands ran with this openness to sex after Lemuria, or even if Lemuria still have that many songs about it. As someone who talks to literally no-one about sex, who lives his life ignorant to the practices and desires of others, this is one of the few insights i have into a private world. It’s all quite eye-opening and informative, but it does align into and support a truth of sex – that it’s something good, that should be done, and done well – common in nearly everything it comes up in, and consequently defines inadequacy in its lacking or deviation from that truth.

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Keep quiet – Lemuria

I was teased once for wearing a Lemuria shirt. At the corner of King Georges and Stoney Creek roads in Beverley Hills waiting for the walk signal. It hurt, i’ve never forgotten it and i demand an apology. Of course i didn’t stick up for myself, caught in that discourse of mostly my own invention that everything i like is terrible and everything everyone else likes is right and good. It’s always weird when things i keep so personal are born out in public to contention, reminding me that everything i love needs defending yet i have no defense for any of it. I don’t even feel i have the grounds for an apology – only a plea that if i’m not to be welcomed then can i just be left alone? No, actually can you just ignore my embarrassing shortcomings and pretend to like me. I know i’m wrong. This loneliness, nonacceptance and ridicule is evidence that i am. Or at least constructed and posited as wrong to your right.

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