So I'm sitting here watching the Mets tortuously take a game against the Reds into extra innings, with a golden opportunity unseen (the Cardinals are beating the Phillies).
What the hell was I going to talk about? Oh yeah, Nick Drake.
So I'm sitting there and a commercial comes on and I hear Nick Drake's From the Morning, the last track on Pink Moon. I've wanted to talk to you about Pink Moon for some time but I haven't found the right launching point. Now unfortunately, it's been forced upon me by a commercial for Verizon (or was it AT&T, or Sprint - it's all the same bullshit - either way, you can tell I despise the fact that whoever owns Drake's catalogue chose to sell out to this).
Drake himself could not release this song for this commercial because he's dead. He's been dead for almost as long as I've been alive. But whenever I hear the songs of Pink Moon, it feels as though a very beautiful and complex person has taken up residence with what I always assume to be an impenetrable emotional place. Drake's songs are moody explorations, meditating on life's utterly unanswerable questions. His vocals are accompanied only by his ponderous, lyrical guitar playing. This is early morning music. When I'm waiting for my coffee to make its way to my bloodstream and I seem capable of only blankly looking out a window, Pink Moon is what I'll listen to.
It's heartbreaking to know that this work of quiet magic has now become the stuff of boardrooms and focus groups. It's heartbreaking that the man who made this music lived in commercial and critical obscurity, lacking the egotistical machinations to escape anonymity. It's heartbreaking that Nick Drake took his own life at age 26.
Anyway, yeah cell phone coverage! Woohoo!