Swan Song

Sportcruiser
 
I took a flying lesson on my 33rd birthday instead of calling you,
Or parking on the block where our old place used to be.
 
Genesee, Genesee, Genesee
 
Pathetic, I know, but sometimes I still like to park on that street,
And have lunch in the car just to feel close to you.
 
I was once in love with my life here,
In that studio apartment with you.
Little yellow flowers on the tops of trees as our only view,
Out of the only window,
Big enough for me to see our future through.
 
But it turned out I was the only one that could see it.
 
Stupid apartment complex.
Terrible you.
You, who I wait for.
You, you, you.
Like a broken record stuck on loop.
 
So that day, on my birthday, I thought,
‘Something has to change’
You can’t always be about waiting for you.
 
Don’t tell anyone, but part of my reasoning for taking the flight class
Was this idea that if I could become my own navigator,
A captain of the sky,
That perhaps I could stop looking for direction from you.
 
Well, what started off as an idea on a whim
Has turned into something more.
Too shy to explain to the owners that my first lesson was just a one-time thing,
I’ve continued to go to classes each week
At the precious little strip off Santa Monica and Bundy.
 
And everything was going fine.
We were starting with dips and loops,
and then something terrible happened.
 
During my fourth lesson in the sky,
My intructor, younger than I, but as tough as you,
Instructed me to do a simple maneuverer.
It’s not that I didn’t do it,
But I was slow to lean the sportcruiser into a righthand upward turn.
Scared
Scared that I would lose control of the plane.
 
Not tactfully and not gently,
The instructor shook his head, and without looking at me said,
'You don’t trust yourself.'
 
I was horrified.
Feeling as though I’d somehow been found out.
Like he knew me
How weak I was.
Of course, he was only talking about my ability as a pilot in the sky,
But I knew it was meant for me to hear those words.
 
For me, they held a deeper meaning.
I didn’t trust myself.
 
Not just 2500 feet above the coast of Malibu,
But with anything.
And I didn’t trust you.
I could’ve said something, but I was quiet.  
Because pilots aren’t like poets.
They don’t make metaphors between life and the sky.
 
In the midst of this mid-life meltdown, navigational exercise in self-examination,
I also decided to do something else I had always wanted to do:
Take sailing lessons in the vibrant bay of Marina del Rey.
I signed up for the glasses under ‘Elizabeth Grant’,
And nobody blinked an eye.
 
So, why was I so sure that when I walked into the tiny shack on Valley Way, someone would say,
'You’re not a captain of a ship, or a master of the sky!'
No.
The fisherman didn’t care, and so neither did I.
 
And for a brief moment, I felt more myself than ever before.
Letting the self proclaimed drunkard captain’s lessons wash over me like the foamy tops of the sea.
 
Midway through my forehead burned,
and my hands raw from driving,
The captain told me the most important think I would need to know on the sea.
 
'Never run the ship into irons'
That’s nautical terms for not sailing the boat directly into the wind.
 
In order to do that though, you have to know where the wind is coming from.
And you might not have time to look up at the mast,
Or up further to the weather vein.
So you have to feel where the wind is coming from.
On your cheeks, and by the tips of the white waves from which direction they’re rolling.
 
To do this, he gave me an exercise.
He told me to close my eyes, and asked me to feel on my neck which way the wind was blowing.
I already knew I was going to get it wrong.
'The wind is coming from everywhere. I feel it all over' I told him.
'No,' he said.
'The wind is coming from the left. The portside.'
I sat waiting for him to tell me, 'You don’t trust himself.'
But he didn’t, so I said it for him.
'I don’t trust myself,'
 
He laughed, gentler than the pilot, but still not realising that my failure in the exercise was hitting me at a much deeper level.
 
'It’s not that you don’t trust yourself' he said. 'It’s simply that you’re not a captain. It isn’t what you do.'
 
Then he told me he wanted me to practise everyday so I would get better.
 
'Which grocery store do you go to?' he asked.
'To the Ralphs in the Palisades,' I replied.
 
'Okay. When you’re in the Ralphs in the Palisades,
I want you, as you walking from your car to the store,
To close your eyes, and feel which way the wind is blowing.
Now, I don’t want you to look like a crazy person crouching in the middle of the parking lot,
but everywhere you go,
I want you to try and find which way the wind is coming in from.
And then, determine if it’s from the port or starboard side,
So when you’re back on the boat you have a better sense of it.'
 
I thought his advice was adorable.
I could already picture myself in the parking lot,
Squinting my eyes with perfect housewives looking on.
 
I could picture myself growing a better sense of which way the wind was blowing.
And as I did, a tiny bit of deeper trust also began to grow within myself.
I thought of mentioning it,
but I didn’t.
Because captain’s aren’t like poets.
They don’t make metaphors between the sea and sky.
 
And as I thought that to myself,
I realised
That’s why I write.
 
All this this circumnavigating the earth
Was to get back to my life.
Six trips to the moon for my poetry to arise.
 
I’m not a captain,
I’m not a pilot.
I write!
I write!
 
 
 
Thank you to @ takeitdoen for the transcript, as it has been released in Australia x

Second listen through: Bare feet on Linoleum feels like such a dark harbinger. It gave off such sinister vibes and it would almost feel not of the same project if Paradise is Fragile didnt act as a solid transition into that kind of modern paranoia. Shes cutting those veggies with a butcher knife. And Sportcruiser-that shit just isn't fair. It is way too close to the heart in its first lines, becomes a deeply personal and beautiful tale of our Lana, and then crushes you again at the end. It is not fair and the showpiece of it all to me. Land of 1000 fires, what a BABE. Excellent. Salamander has actually changed for me and now I feel I need to sit with it. The picture it paints is darker than I felt in my initial listen and now my emotions are conflicted. This POET!

‘I signed up for the class as "Elizabeth Grant",
And nobody blinked an eye’
 
I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say her real name before

The way the dramatic ass music just stops when she says "stew" on the last track is sending me 

The ending of Bare Feet on Linoleum is so amazing and intense. 

I finally listened. Count me in the group who liked it more than they thought they would. Damn girl. The backing music is great. Brings a beatnik quality to the whole thing at times.
 
I will probably hold off on over listening to it until I get to read the whole book. I want it in my hands. And of course the CD and LPs will probably be better quality anyways than this crap audible download. But I am glad it’s finally here. And it doesn’t suck. Lol...

how to disappear would have been better without the christmas production

Because I am so dramatic, I think when it's released I'm going to go to Coney Island and listen on the beach. I'm so excited.

Yep, if you're going to collect her stuff you better buy it while it's still new. Once they go out of print the prices go up stupidly. UO red Honeymoon was for sale for a LONG time so it shouldn't even be that hard to find but the prices are crazy for it now. I've ordered one of each of the Violet LPs too except for Blue. I'm waiting for UO to release something else (hopefully another Britney LP) to get free shipping. I can't imagine that is going to sell out anytime soon. They still have the damn pink NFRs up for sale. I actually hope COCC doesn't go up for preorder soon because I could use a break before my credit card gets up too hight again from her... 

not the men on this thread using their opinion of whether they'd hook up w her or not to comment on her looks...

The urban outfitters version is actually really underwhelming, which kinda sucks cause I usually love picking up their alternate versions. I'm not sure what I was expecting but a different color that matched the cover better than the blue would've been more of a draw, imo.

Should have been orange, just saying

The urban outfitters version is actually really underwhelming, which kinda sucks cause I usually love picking up their alternate versions. I'm not sure what I was expecting but a different color that matched the cover better than the blue would've been more of a draw, imo.

The urban outfitters version is actually really underwhelming, which kinda sucks cause I usually love picking up their alternate versions. I'm not sure what I was expecting but a different color that matched the cover better than the blue would've been more of a draw, imo.

I’m only buying the picture vinyl and hardcover book because I’m broke and I’m hoping she’ll have a lot of versions and collectibles for COC

on her story - 
 

For once the urban outfitters one is the most unnecessary. There’s no alternate cover and the vinyl colour doesn’t match at all. I’m grateful for the cream vinyl and picture disc on Lana’s site because those are much lovelier.

why are there more versions of this than her actual albums  

I was just listening to Joan Baez’s poetry album Baptism and I was holding the sleeve, looking at it, when I noticed in the corner there’s a tree with orange fruit on it (which I never really noticed before) so I wonder if the Violet cover was a bit of a homage to that since they’re both poetry albums and we know how much she loves Joan Baez. Here, I circled the tree for you guys. Idk how I never saw it there before but I guess I never really had a reason to notice it before.

the way we won.... but took five years off our lives in the process

i didn't like the grammys dress but she ate this up
 

He seems really happy with his new girlfriend, so ... Lana missed the boat
 
I thought there was a small chance that they might've gotten back together especially considering California/that weird owl plush coincidence + a few things he had on his story, but I'm pretty sure they're done forever now.
 
Yeah I don't think she intentionally lies, though ... I think she's just flaky as fuck and forgets stuff. Relatable, tbh ...

FILY is the best song on NFR.

am i the only one who thinks this thread is the most toxic / negative thread in LB? prob yes