The Soundtrack to Our Lives

About 5 years ago now, I'd gone to Iowa City with Colleen to see Ben Folds, who, despite or because of having been the leader of a sweaty band par excellence, puts on a fantastic live show. But this post isn't about Ben Folds. We arrived way too early, as 1) it was open seating and 2) when born in the Midwest they inject you with some sort of hormone that causes you to become anxious if you leave for something less than a half hour in advance. I was there to see Ben, but someone else showed up as well.



I didn't pay much attention to Neil Hannon at the time. His songs were pleasant enough, though I felt his voice was almost too sonorous and at times a bit monotone. He played a few songs, people clapped as if they had all just gotten back from a lite lunch on the Riviera with Miffy and Alfred, and Hannon quietly took his exit through the thunderous applause that greated Mr. Folds.

I thought about Neil for a moment last night while drinking a delicious Belgian ale (Hoegaarden, if you must ask) at dinner with the Kobayashis. I had picked up my first The Divine Comedy album (Fin de Siecle) during a brief to do back in the States, namely when I taught Great books and was accused, along with everyone's beloved filter-feeder, of helping students cheat on a test. Ah, the memories! It became my constant companion on trips to the gym, and the songs were generally always in my head.

I was also reading in Catullus quite heavily at the time, and as a result, my brain always seems to pair the two. They are not dissimilar, but what binds them for me is a certain melancholic view of the world that while quite depressing on one hand is capable of the most wonderfully witty irony as well, often at the same time. One never knows whether what's being said is quite funny or in fact profoundly sad.

Farewell, milady. now Catullus is resolved.
he won't seek you or ask for you unwilling.
and you will ache, when no one is asking.
ah, you poor skank! what life is there for you?
whom will you go to? to whom will you be beautiful?
who will love you? whose name will you be called?

And that right there is the crux of the matter: exactly whom is Catullus talking to? It makes all the difference.