I wish I was an extra in Slacker, that I was seeing the Replacements in '84 in Minneapolis and that it was 1905 in Peoria, that Wire was the biggest band from the '70s and Starship never existed. I wish Danger Mouse would stop trying to collaborate with all my favorite bands and that James Mercer would reform the Shins. I wish it was a Thursday night in 2004 and I was heading to Andiamos, that I was a freshman in college and that I was forming a post-pop electro/alt-dancewave punkcore proto-disco seminalchill band before sharing a cigarette with Jim Jarmusch at some crap diner in NY. I wish hip-hop maintained its DIY ethos and that Clear Channel was bought by an independently wealthy businessman and burned to the ground. I wish vintage analogue synthesizers weren't out of my price range and that I had the time and energy to read. I wish the Dormitory's jukebox was free and that "This is Happening" was out today and it didn't have "Drunk Girls" on it. I wish Yeasayer could write more than 5 good songs for an album, that nearly every good record this year wasn't completely front-loaded and that (often meaningless) NSFW music videos would stop getting such easy publicity for (what's now) standard-practice titties and gore [I'm looking you M.I.A., Flaming Lips, Yeasayer, Girls, Erykah Badu, No Age, Matt and Kim, Massive Attack, The Kills, etc (dammit they just won again)] I wish there was a performance venue in town to draw indie acts, that my hipster mailman would stop taking my issue of Paste every month that I then have to call for a replacement copy of (which has also disappeared once). I wish I was hearing Elvis Costello's "My Aim is True," Otis Redding's "Otis Blue," Tom Waits "Heart of Saturday Night," Pixies "Doolittle," Pavement's "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain," Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot," and Beck's "Odelay" for the first time again. I wish I wasn't nostalgic.
