Better to feel bad than nothing at all

I have to trim down my coffee intake, and it is highlighting the grip of addiction in my brain. I currently drink an amount that is shocking to anyone not similarly afflicted with the same predisposition towards self-destruction as me, but normal for those who would see themselves in ruins. Once, when my doctor asked how many cups of coffee in a day I drink, I asked if she wanted me to tell the truth or lie, then answered four or five. She looked concerned, and asked what the lie would have been, and I said four or five. But now I am sick and nauseous more than I am not, and the medication I take to keep my stomach acids in line is not strong enough to counter my addiction, and so I am down to a healthy 3—or sometimes 4—and I hate it.

My brain is constantly running scenarios that chase bliss like a dog on a leash seeing a ball that is not theirs thrown in the park. What if we had one more coffee right now do you want coffee right now imagine holding a coffee right now wouldn’t it feel good even if it feels bad to feel so good right now to hold coffee in your hand.

This is what it’s like sometimes when the brain turns on you. Obsessive and demanding and eager for blood in any form. I am getting better at controlling it because I want to be alive more often than I consider the alternatives, and have gotten better at managing the more indulgent and poisonous moments of a brain steeped in ideation.

I drink a lot more tea now, and it reminds me of when I started smoking more cigarettes when I quit drinking. I just need something, sometimes, and we deserve something sometimes. I know none of it is good, but it’s not always bad, and occasionally that’s enough. Sometimes it is better to feel bad than nothing at all.

Charlotte Cornfield has a new single, the title track from her forthcoming Merge records debut, Hurts Like Hell. Charlotte is my favourite kind of songwriter, one who builds a life in the span of minutes with nothing but words and rhythm to build the walls around it. Her songs always feel like a journey, like a road trip with an old friend telling stories you’re not sure are new or so old they feel fresh again. She finds simple and incisive ways to help you feel everything all at once, and we are better for it.

Ratboys continue to insinuate themselves into my heart, and they’ve got yet another new single—“The World, So Madly”—from a record on the horizon, Singin’ to an Empty Chair. It feels like the sun I can see teasing its arrival through the cracks in my blackout curtains. Hopeful and vibrant and fleeting. I adore its jangly, driving rhythm. How my feet find themselves shaking in time despite my not asking them to. It feels so nice for a few minutes, and then it’s gone, and I skip back to 0, so I might feel the sun on my feet one more time.

I have three songs on repeat today, and “Nevermind” by Remember Sports rounds it all out nicely. A little twang, a little sway. I love Carmen Perry’s voice, the cracks and lilts of it. It reminds me of making mix tapes, and hearing that one perfect song you wanted to find others to perfectly fade into and out of it. This kind of analog, tactile life that is so easily forgotten by the ease of hitting play on a screen stashed away in my pocket. It makes me think about spring, not the first day of it and not the last but right in the middle. Jacket weather, and coffee outside. Wind in the hair, and someone smoking a perfect cigarette somewhere nearby. All the little things that make the world real, a little texture in the teeth of it.

I have a new column in Paste Magazine, called Alt Rock Dept. It’s about working at a grocery store in the mid-‘90s and the radio songs that filled every aisle and stockroom. The first edition is up now, about Toadies’ Possum Kingdom. Read it here

I was a guest on You Are Good alongside my friend Rax King (buy Sloppy dammit), where we talked about the movie Josie and the Pussycats. I loved it, take a listen.

If you’re going to be in Fredericton, NB this month, I’ll be reading at the Shivering Songs festival next weekend, more info here.

And, finally, at the end of the month I have a new screening series at Hot Docs. It’s called Jukedocs, it’s a monthly series of Music Docs, and the first one is The Devil and Daniel Johnston on Jan. 31. Tickets and more info here.

Buy my book! It's called The Dad Rock That Made Me a Woman!