You can consider the above sentence some sort of meta-navel-gazing, by the way.
Anyway – I often gaze at mine and generally I wonder if I’m going a bit, you know, soft. (Actually that thought often goes through my head when I’m gazing a few inches lower, too, but that’s another story).
The theory was best propagated in Trainspotting: that everyone has it, then loses it, and there are no examples of this not being true. “Even David Bowie lost it,” is the trumping argument.
Bloggers worry if they were cool, and are no longer cool. It’s all we have. And thus, I wonder if recommending a nice, simple, nuanced, folky guitar pop song about love and life means I’m on the one-way track to middle age.
And then I decided to get over myself and enjoy Dantevilles for what they are: purveyors of nice, simple, nuanced, folky guitar pop songs about love and life. And what’s uncool about that?
Instead of Dinner is kind of a sexy title when you put it in context, and it has that whole guitar-music-that-is-influenced by 90’s R’n’B thing that The Kids just adore.
And you know, it works well: here in Dantevilles is a band that’s unafraid to let their songs stretch out a bit and breathe, resulting in songs that are delicate and yet glossy. I haven’t heard many guitar songs do that since… ooh, the turn of the Millennium. Whoah. Maybe I am past it after all.