After the Gold Rush

Been feeling a dose of the melancholy lately. Don’t really know why. I suppose what goes up must come down, but I just didn’t see it coming so soon and so fast. Maybe it was just the toxins of a drunken night leaving my body: and let me tell you, it was a drunken night. It’s like following a few bad decisions is one lasting negative thought pattern that persists. A session of Parkour ailed that. And an episode of Strange Sex on TLC. I saw a 73 year old grandma go on a date with a 33 year old dad. Watching that has to set someone right. But I digress.

There was this one song in the back of my mind that kinda lingered there: After the Gold Rush by Neil Young. This is one of my all-time favourite songs. I don’t think any song has been able to make me cry like this one. Whether it’s Young’s breaking voice or the sentimental piano, this song really cuts to the core. From the beginning the piano keys ring and hang in the atmosphere opening my chest like a surgeon. When you get to the middle of the song, I’m simultaenously out cold on Young’s magic carpet riding his dream and having my heart held. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but that’s exactly what it feels like. So without further ado, Mr. Young: