One Moment In Denver

Ryan has introduced me to a ton of music I've never heard before. Some months ago, on the suggestion of some blogger, I downloaded a couple of songs by Great Lake Swimmers. The person who wrote about them wrote in such a way that made them sound compelling, so much so that after a few seconds of listening I just went ahead and downloaded whatever was posted. I always meant to catch back up with those songs and purposefully listen to them but I never did.

The other night I was sitting on Ryan's couch, a corner couch. He and Dawn were sitting on the other side of the couch looking on the internet together for a place to go backpacking. Outside it had turned from dusk to dark. We had driven that day up to Vail and back. His large condominium windows were half open and a breeze was blowing and my sinuses were sore and this song came on his stereo while I was staring straight ahead at the wall behind his television.

My mind wandered to the lyrics, the ones I could hear over their speculation, as I listened to the music and my mind went away. I had asked Ryan the day before who the band was and he'd told me it was Great Lake Swimmers. It was song number 4 on Ongiara. I mentioned to Ryan later that I really liked that song, before I fully understood the lyrics. "I do too," he said. Later at the airport I sat down and turned the laptop on so I could listen closer to the lyrics. They were basically what I thought they were, without knowing what they were beforehand, because it comes through in the music. Or they mean what you want them to mean. Or both. I don't know what the song means to Ryan. I can guarantee it means something completely different to him than it does to me. It'll mean something totally different to you, probably, too. The problem is, I took the song and made it an MPEG-4 which may only play on iTunes. If you can't get it to play let me know and I'll try to fix it. It's only up for a week. And you should go buy the album whether you can hear the music or not.