I have another podcast called Shit’s Legit. The concept is my roommate, best friend, platonic life partner, and I,  decide what is shit and what is legit in pop culture. We have a living playlist that you can subscribe to on Spotify called SHIT THAT MIGHT BE LEGIT. Each week we pick new music to try out and put it on that playlist. We always pick a throwback album to review.  This week it was REM. We were discussing what album to choose. One of my few thoughts I have about REM are from a David Foster Wallace biography. He says that REM is his favorite band.

I remembered this because I thought it was strangely incongruent with my perception of David Foster Wallace.  I suppose it has a lot to do with my perception of REM. I think of David Foster Wallace as being obsessed with lyrics while also not having any sentimentality. I mention not having sentimentality because I never think of DFW as someone who could fall in love. In my admittedly flawed caricature of DFW he doesn’t have time for trifling things like love.

When I think of REM I think of U2 and Smashing Pumpkins. I think of a band that takes themselves so seriously they seem silly and pretentious.  It occurred to me that I don’t make these assumptions because they are true or an accurate representation of how their music makes me feel but because I fundamentally cannot recognize the world in which these bands and this writer lived in.

I do not understand concepts such as delayed gratification, I will never be stranded with nothing BUT my favorite album. I will never be in love and be separated by distance or time. I have to search my childhood memories to find examples of this space. Space defined by the moments between intellectual stimulation.

I think about the morning ride on the bus in third grade. The restless agony of being stuck in a bus, not with your friends but with your neighbors.   Tommy lived on a farm about 2 miles past the school. Everyone hated Tommy.  I’m fairly certain it had mostly to do with extra time we all had to wait each day to pick him up. Though he did pick his nose. We all did he had the bad habit of doing it indiscreetly.  Sometimes Tommy’s mom would call his absence in ahead of time and we would get to school a couple minutes earlier. That meant an extra two minutes of morning recess. I calculated that to be 10 extra free throws, a .02 percent chance I could score one more goal, and .001 increase in risk for doing something to get in trouble.

I don’t really remember all of this. I remember the images and the feelings but there is so much blank space in between.

Reportedly David Foster Wallace’s favorite song is Strange Currencies.  It’s a song about a man who is unsure of his own competence in love. He asks for forgiveness before he’s done anything unforgivable.

I need a chance, a second chance, a third chance, a fourth chance,

a word, a signal, a nod, a little breath

just to fool myself, to catch myself, to make it real, real

 

He’s asking for unconditional love. He knows  he will eventually hurt someone, something, or himself. He can see the gaps in his past will eventually become the gaps in his present. The future is even darker.

How can you commit to the unknown?

Unconditional love.

Who can’t relate to that?

David Foster Wallace can fall in love. REM is about the space between. If you put your ear to the ground, you can close all the gaps.

The post Strange Currencies appeared first on Date Night .