The Reptile House
uilos718:

I have intense Toad feels, okay!?

I HAVE A MOUNTAIN GOATS SONG FOR THIS.
Thank You Mario But Our Princess Is In Another Castle
I kept my hat on just for luck Sang simple tunes the whole night through I wondered if I’d wake to find myself in flames As I waited here for you

uilos718:

I have intense Toad feels, okay!?

I HAVE A MOUNTAIN GOATS SONG FOR THIS.

Thank You Mario But Our Princess Is In Another Castle

I kept my hat on just for luck
Sang simple tunes the whole night through
I wondered if I’d wake to find myself in flames
As I waited here for you

the Mountain Goats - Quetzalcoatal Comes Through
59 plays

Quetzalcoatl Comes Through :: The Mountain Goats

John Darnielle, are you me.

John Darnielle, are you me.

cxlhnl:

So I kept writing through the summer, and in August the baby was born and I’d cradle him in my left arm while writing melodies at the piano with my right, and I said, let Osiris the keeper of the gates be my witness, other songwriters may go soft when they get to be parents but I am going to keep going all the way down into the inner darkness, it will set a good example for the baby, and besides, what am I going to do, suddenly start writing songs about cute things instead of songs about how to wrest cries of triumph from the screaming places? Please. May the baby grow up to spit in my face if I should pose that hard.

JD talks about the new album.

Kids in junior high used to wait until after school to fuck with me, but I guess they didn’t mind waiting, because I walked home by myself, and some of the kids most eager to fuck with me lived on the same block as me, which, I probably don’t have to point this out, really sucked. It got worse every day; I was a scrawny dude with no illusions of toughness or any desire to sharpen my combat skills. I liked to hang out with girls and read science fiction books. Eventually it became clear to me that even if I ratted these dudes out to the school, any relief was going to be temporary; it was fight them or avoid them, and they moved in packs of three. So one day instead of walking home (south, down Mountain Avenue, past the little league diamonds and through a vacant lot, which was usually where the beatdown occurred), I cut left at Harrison Avenue and hoofed it all the way downtown; my tormentors followed me most of the way there, but I was bold enough to look behind me and see that the further out of the neighborhood they got, the less comfortable they looked. It was cool to feel a sort of power in flight: they weren’t sure where I was going; that made them uneasy.

A few things happened as a result of me being too terrified of my bullies to face them. One, I ended up volunteering for work at the library. I filed books and microfiche, and cleaned vinyl LPs with water and a cloth. It felt weird not telling my supervisor “I’m here because the people who want to kick my ass won’t follow me in,” but that passed. Two, I ended up spending more time downtown, because that’s where the library is. Downtown in Claremont there’s a place called the Folk Music Center, it’s been there forever; they have a lot of guitars. I only knew piano, but I used to go in and look at the chord charts and teach myself one chord at a time. D. D. D. D. Half an hour of what was probably the worst-sounding D ever. G. G. G. G. Really had to stretch that little left hand to make the G. I pity the people who worked the counter at the Folk Music Center when I’d come in.

If there’s any point to this story, and I’m not sure there is but, it’s that the songs I sing, which are often about finding ways to call a dark dungeon a glittering castle & really mean it, have some of their genesis in me being a fearful young kid with just enough presence of mind to turn to music as an escape. The fact that I’m able to play them on guitar certainly owes much to my finding a path home that other kids on the block didn’t want to take.

John Darnielle, Run Away, Teach Self Chords, Tour Years Later, April 2012. (via bottleonthebookcase)
This is a song about when you run across something in your house that belongs to a different version of you that you thought you had upgraded all software on. And you say to yourself, “Wait, that’s me 1.8. What the fuck is that, Beth? Me 1.8 doesn’t even run on this machine anymore. I can’t…I gotta run a sort of an emulator to make Me 1.8 run on this machine, and I don’t want to run that emulator.” But the thing that you find causes you to run that emulator and live for an afternoon in the You 1.8 that you were hoping not to have to run on the machine—‘cause it’s gonna fuck up the machine. What will you do? There’s nobody you can take the machine to.
John Darnielle, introducing Half Dead. (via bottleonthebookcase)
the Mountain Goats - Alpha Omega
169 plays

Alpha Omega :: The Mountain Goats

That’s how this story ends.

The Mountain Goats - No Children
2,283 plays

perpetualisolation:

The Mountain Goats - No Children 

I hope that our few remaining friends
Give up on trying to save us
I hope we come out with a fail-safe plot
To piss off the dumb few that forgave us

I hope the fences we mended
Fall down beneath their own weight
And I hope we hang on past the last exit
I hope it’s already too late

And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here
Someday burns down
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away
And I never come back to this town again in my life

I hope I lie
And tell everyone you were a good wife
And I hope you die
I hope we both die

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow
I hope it bleeds all day long
Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises
We’re pretty sure they’re all wrong

I hope it stays dark forever
I hope the worst isn’t over
And I hope you blink before I do
And I hope I never get sober

And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can’t find one good thing to say
And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You’d stay the hell out of my way

I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand

And I hope you die
I hope we both die

I want you to sing to the one you love when the time comes. You’ll know when the time has come. You wont like it. You wont feel like singing. I want you to remember when the time comes that I told you singing would help.
John Darnielle (via silentsecrets) on No Children.