Library of Inspiration: Yellow House

Track Listing: 1. Easier, 2. Lullabye, 3. Knife, 4. Central and Remote, 5. Little Brother, 6. Plans, 7. Marla, 8. On a Neck, On a Spit, 9. Reprise, 10. Colorado

You Are Here. (Star dot on a map. An amusement park, shopping mall, or any other here and now.) Surprise, surprise, it isn’t just another day. Yes, a return to work still lurks (and Monday morning is never anywhere but here), the budget remains a noose, and oh by the way, things aren’t going so well with your health (or is it your parents’ health/your dog’s/your friend’s). But surprise, surprise. You Are Here. Out of the blue, here.

Star dot: dinner with a friend where the accompanying conversation—a really good talk—lasts well beyond the crème brûlée straight into the dawn. Red circle dot: an ordinary trip to the library to return a few overdue books ends with Revolutionary Road in your hands at the checkout, setting up a date with Richard Yates destiny that promises to take you on a journey to unexpected and profound places.

Here: Union Park on a sun-soaked Saturday in late July, cold Goose Island in hand. Not your favorite beer, but hell, it tastes absolutely perfect today as you listen to a band you’ve been prodded to check out. Grizzly Bear. They’re on Stage C. You’ve done your homework and listened to a few of their tunes in advance, adding to the intrigue. And here, outside in the summer sun, surprise surprise, intrigue transforms into something more.

You are struck by sound. A quick jab to the gut. Tight, tempo-shifting jams intersect delicate harmonies—vocals that float over the crowd atop the stunning, refreshing summer breeze. You Are Here: Chicago, Illinois, Pitchfork Music Festival, July 14, 2007, Stage C. The show is flawless from start to goose pimply “On a Neck, On a Spit” finish.

And finally, You Are Here. On Amazon.com the next day, ordering Yellow House and also Horn of Plenty. You simply had to. You buy both CDs because you know that nabbing just one will not curb your suddenly ravenous Grizzly Bear appetite. When they arrive, you cannot open them fast enough. All that damn packaging that lies between you and a return to that impeccable blend of sounds. Gotta get back. Gotta get back. On your living room couch, you lie down and drift. Drift. Soon you are hitchhiking, on your way back above the clouds over Union Park where you can listen to the perfect sounds forever.

Forever here.

-G