My mate Paul said he saw a serpent with feet one time. He says he saw it with his bare eyes, about thirteen foot long and around 350kg, dark olive brown with a white underside. I grew more sceptical as he sold me how this serpent with feet would feast on fish, gar and turtles, and was obviously cold-blooded judging by the amount of time this serpent with feet would spend lazing around in the sun. It was when Paul started excitedly pontificating to me of how this serpent with feet had incredibly strong muscles with which to snap shut its jaws, but relatively weak ones to open it, that I couldn’t help but intervene. Paul, I said, this ain’t no ‘serpent with feet’, you cretin, it’s a fucking crocodile. I’m not having you going around claiming to have seen a serpent with feet when all you’ve seen is some dumb crocodile.
Paul dismissed me, saying this serpent with feet had a far wider, U-shaped snout than you’d expect with a crocodile. Also, this serpent with feet definitely inhabited a freshwater marsh, and he was a little offended that I didn’t know crocodiles tended to live in saltwater. Through gritted teeth, I said fine, but I wondered whether he’d considered that this serpent with feet might have been an alligator. He scoffed, asking me where alligator’s usually live. After a quick internet search, I replied North America and parts of China. Then how could I have seen one?? He laughed, I’ve never even been to North America or China!
This is why I don’t invite Paul out much, our conversations frequently descend into this kind of nonsense. I asked him where exactly he saw this serpent with feet. He said in his house. I said in your house? He said yeah, in my house. I asked if he meant the serpent with feet was actually physically present in his house. He said no, he saw it on TV. Obviously, by this point I was close to losing patience, but I still felt that this debate was winnable, so I pushed him on where the serpents with feet were on the nature programme he was obviously watching, as if it were set in either North America or China then that would count as my win. He said he didn’t know where it was set. I asked whether it was set in North America or China. He said he didn’t know. I asked if he remembered the name of the show he was watching. He said of course he remembered, said he’s not some sort of idiot. I said fine, Paul, what was the name of the show you were watching? He said he was watching the old Hanna-Barbera cartoon Wally Gator. I said Paul, surely you can see that Wally Gator is a cartoon, first of all, and secondly even if he was a real life character he is clearly an alligator, otherwise his name just wouldn’t make sense. Paul looked confused, and said my reasoning didn’t make sense. Mary Berry isn’t a berry, he said. It was then that I gave up. I told Paul that his mum was a serpent with feet, and said it loud enough to leave it in no doubt that I had won the argument.
Generally, with a few ‘fourth post of the day’ exceptions, you can pretty much gauge how much I like a record by how little I can think to say about it and how rubbish the ‘review’ is. Often the very best music music is undefinable, and energises parts of your soul that you just can’t define. ‘soil’ (BUY A FUCKING CAPS LOCK!!) is one such emotionally devastating yet spiritually engaging record, that covers similar ground to last year’s Moses Sumney release, but is (whisper it) far superior.
waft, though? You can’t name a song ‘waft’, can you? That’s a word that’s only used in terms of farting, is it not? Like, you only waft a fart. Yeah? Yeah? N…no…?
An utterly amazing album. Honest