Blitzed and lying on the floor just staring at the ceiling. Merrily I droll along, let my mind wander off to the past. San Diego socks sliding rubbing round the carpet, swimming thoughts and tactile bliss, back alone again on my skateboard, cool salty air thick in my way all along downhill by Balboa, the concrete path led only deeper back into the fray, and into the center of the city, I disappeared, sometimes.
I quit my job, like the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that. I didn't want to deal with the awkward two week notice that leads inexorably to fake farewells, those 8 hours of full time bullshit made all the more unbearable.
Shirt and tie, trembling against the bathroom wall, digging through my pocket for my panic pills. This is something different, something I don't understand. I can't sleep, fearful streaming; Worried. I don't know what I think about it, and for all my medical research and news junkie ways, I don't want to read about it. Schizophrenia.
A manic depressive, in my case, a bipolar wrist cutter with brilliant euphoria beyond my control sometimes only hours later. What's got me keeping my cell phone in the closet, dormant even when it's turned on--seems nobody calls me--it's desperation that I'm drowning in psychosis; rage of pure paranoia. Fighter jets at three A.M., an increasing feeling that someone, for reasons that I wish I could undo, is waiting for the perfect crime; Car bombs don't make turning that key easier. Seeing things walking in the park that might not be there. A glance around in the coffeehouse, my world colliding with yours. Thought I heard somebody, but no one called my name.
On the road I catch myself gripping the wheel with such a grasp that my knuckles are white. If things are what they seem, a disturbing revelation that I want my life back, but I don't know what on earth to do.
Relient K
HEAR THEY GROW...
Led by Matt Thiessen, the once-and-future snarky Ohio christian punk rock outfit completes another revolution sewn upon people, places, and things, bursting with new direction, tried-and-true ways and means of a Sadie Hawkins dance, required elements of style, and respect for the classics you'd hear with your driving permit behind the wheel, way back when mom & dad were riding shotgun, and a little too happy to have their CD in the stereo.
Thiessen, 29, is damn good at sounding 19; Laying down a tracks like "Candlelight" with a careful kind of intimate prowess, flowing seamlessly to a serenade of the soul via intermezzos, keeping with the successful production style of their previous efforts.
Listen closely for a glimpse into the subtly progressive insights both thematically and lyrically: It's clear Thiessen's been thinking on things, integrating heart of the previous closing tracks of "Mhmm" and "Five Score and Seven Years Ago", diverting from soothing-but-at-times-irritating seven minute finales of reprise, still keeping a polished nod to faith, heartache, and teen angst. (The Christian Rock recipe for those bible-toting boys with the cymbal-crazy drummer and embarrassingly out of tune guitars in the basement next door.)
Six or so albums in, and able to keep it together, the boys continually remind listeners that they're perfectly capable of trying new waters to make a splash and get their feet wet before wading through success on the airwaves and iTunes, giving fans return on investment like some kind of musical mutual fund, cranking out some much needed change you can believe in.
And with enough to appeal for atheists to altar boys in a time when most established bands either can't assimilate with new kids on the punk rock block, or have too much spark, wowing then fizzling like fireworks, Relient K delivers as they transcend what you want them to be, just as you start to wonder what they're dreaming up now.
