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97

Scatman and Bobbin the Dynamic Duo

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Keenan, D. (2018). Scatman and Bobbin the Dynamic Duo. In Keenan, D. This Is Memorial Device. Faber & Faber Social, pp. 97-107

105

I barely remember the rest of the night to be honest with you. The concert was good, they came up with this song where Lucas enumerated, is that a word, e-num-er-ated all of the subjects of songs, I can’t remember exactly how many there were but there were songs about falling in love and songs about being pure enamoured and songs about meeting and songs about falling out of love and songs about being all tore up and then there were songs about despair, complete despair (I may be making that one up myself, I can’t remember), songs about God, songs about existential lifestyles, songs about the seasons, about autumn leaves and flowers in the springtime, songs about animals, about wanting to be an animal or acting like one, songs that were more like social commentary, trivial songs, songs about memory, songs about the past and about the future and songs that would bring the two together, songs that were written out of guilt alone, songs that were meant to salvage guilty feelings or salve guilty feelings, one or the other, the PA was cheap, who knows, songs about time, like when will you or what have you or if you or now you or can’t you, songs about songs, singing about singing, which isn’t singing at all if you ask me, singing about plants growing up or the vagaries of weather, is that a word, vague-ar-ies, and there were more songs, for sure, he listed them all, or it seemed as if he did, and then he had this whole thing where he acted as if he had exhausted songs, he shrugged and he shivered and he cried – it was like rockabilly to me – and then he went into this thing where he started spouting nonsense, like he was having a conversation with himself and talking rubbish, just crazy stuff that made no sense and that’s when it struck me. He’s singing about nothing. Fuck me. He’s writing a song about nothing. It’s the only thing that songs haven’t been written about. D’you get me? And it was like a love song, it was like he was singing a song to something that was so lacking in love that even the mention of its name would bring it back to life and we would all notice it and fall in love with it like a prom queen or a movie star. Oh god every bit of nonsense was like a poem to nothing from the depths of his heart to the depths of his heart. It’s all nonsense, I said to myself, it’s all bollocks, then I imagined Lucas lifting me up in his arms, I imagined the pure freezing rivers running through his veins, I thought of his feet, pure writhing like fish out of water.

—p.105 by David Keenan 1 year ago

I barely remember the rest of the night to be honest with you. The concert was good, they came up with this song where Lucas enumerated, is that a word, e-num-er-ated all of the subjects of songs, I can’t remember exactly how many there were but there were songs about falling in love and songs about being pure enamoured and songs about meeting and songs about falling out of love and songs about being all tore up and then there were songs about despair, complete despair (I may be making that one up myself, I can’t remember), songs about God, songs about existential lifestyles, songs about the seasons, about autumn leaves and flowers in the springtime, songs about animals, about wanting to be an animal or acting like one, songs that were more like social commentary, trivial songs, songs about memory, songs about the past and about the future and songs that would bring the two together, songs that were written out of guilt alone, songs that were meant to salvage guilty feelings or salve guilty feelings, one or the other, the PA was cheap, who knows, songs about time, like when will you or what have you or if you or now you or can’t you, songs about songs, singing about singing, which isn’t singing at all if you ask me, singing about plants growing up or the vagaries of weather, is that a word, vague-ar-ies, and there were more songs, for sure, he listed them all, or it seemed as if he did, and then he had this whole thing where he acted as if he had exhausted songs, he shrugged and he shivered and he cried – it was like rockabilly to me – and then he went into this thing where he started spouting nonsense, like he was having a conversation with himself and talking rubbish, just crazy stuff that made no sense and that’s when it struck me. He’s singing about nothing. Fuck me. He’s writing a song about nothing. It’s the only thing that songs haven’t been written about. D’you get me? And it was like a love song, it was like he was singing a song to something that was so lacking in love that even the mention of its name would bring it back to life and we would all notice it and fall in love with it like a prom queen or a movie star. Oh god every bit of nonsense was like a poem to nothing from the depths of his heart to the depths of his heart. It’s all nonsense, I said to myself, it’s all bollocks, then I imagined Lucas lifting me up in his arms, I imagined the pure freezing rivers running through his veins, I thought of his feet, pure writhing like fish out of water.

—p.105 by David Keenan 1 year ago