City of Angels, the Distillers, 2002
Yeah. The Distillers are all in my head right now. Brody Dalle is growling a warning at me "it's going down tonight in this town." Nothing like that distinctive Brody hellcat Distillers sound to jumpstart the day.
I just woke from a dream where I wasn't where I needed to be. Not just that, but I wasn't where I desperately wanted to be either. I hate that feeling -- like pure anxiety with a double dose of urgency to fix the situation. Not a feeling of full on fear, just that feeling of no control. There's a sadness that comes with losing a moment that you never quite had ... "they all stare and growl."
Whoa. I'm lost in gathering the remnants of this dream with the Distillers as my early morning soundtrack. "They say this is the city -- the city of angels." Yeah. I was alone in a sea of strangers and I couldn't find my way back to the party. I couldn't remember the room number, either. Every door I opened was wrong. I don't know why I left but I woke feeling that regret. I just wanted to be back dancing with that cute guy who looked like Trent from Daria but I knew that time had passed. Sad.
I love the Distillers. I love Brody Dalle and all her messiness. I wonder if my subconcious conjured my Distillers/Brody love because I saw Rancid on Friday night ... hmmmm.
"Los Angeles come scam me please." Or not -- I'm open to being scammed by a pretty man who looks like Trent Lane, though. Come find me.
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