Uncle Joe

What is it that makes misery so attractive? What is it about the depth, the rock bottom, the pitch-black floor of the well that is so compulsive, so hideously, perversely beautiful?

I suppose I'm in a better position than most to answer that question, but of course I can't. For me, I guess, it's a control thing- I love that feeling of being helpless, of not having to move, because there is nowhere to go. Happy or sad, lonely or euphoric, our comfort zone is always the place that we don't have to move from, because moving is uncomfortable. It is also, of course, immensely rewarding, and the only real reason to be alive. But tell to someone who is happy in misery.

Somebody who has made a living out of being sad is Mark Kozelek, singer with Red House Painters and Sun Kil Moon. That man's songs revolve around slow, hypnotic melodies and lyrics about lonliness and the depravity of aging, all delivered in that gravelly, effortless baritone. One of his darkest and most lasting songs is Uncle Joe (he's penned a lot of unheard-of classics, but this one illustrates my point best), a song set on the brink between deadbeat isolation and suicide. Importantly though, he recognises the ironic beauty in such a scenario: "But it feels so wonderful/ just to swim in our fears".

But the title speaks volumes. In his hardest hours, Kozelek looks to Uncle Joe for a "solution". Now, I haven't the faintest idea who Uncle Joe actually is/was, but he resonates with me. You see, I think we all need an Uncle Joe in our lives- some guiding light, some purpose-making figure to keep us going. Life, for the cynical, is inherently pointless, and then we die. We might as well fill the meantime with light and laughter and something that gives us satisfaction and purpose. An Uncle Joe.

Til we meet again,
S.xxx

P.S I may have entirely missed the point of the song I've just plundered mercilessly for my own misdeeds. Oh well.