At
some point early on in my high school confusion, Possum Dixon’s “Star Maps”
fell into my hands. I’d only heard Pavement a few times and felt they were
too...something... for me to get down with. I had my Pearl Jam to listen to, or
whatever shitty band sounded most like Pearl Jam at the time. Anywayssolikeso,
Possum Dixon had the
flangerey-indie-part-of-surf-rock-but-not-the-scale-worship-guitar thing down,
somehow awakening in me a love for simultaneous energy and meditative space,
desperation and stoicism. Their lyrics weren’t incredibly personal or angry or
depressing, but they weren’t just filler, either. To tell you the truth, I’m
not sure I totally got how special they were at the time. My parents ended up
inheriting the CD before my move to California, and, whenever I go back visit
them in Ohio, I borrow my dad’s manual transmission pick up truck, pop that
album in and sing along with the windows rolled down. It’s pretty great. I’m
pretty sure that the band ‘Civil Union’ are Possum Dixon’s slightly noisier
kids on vacation in New Zealand. I’m not much for the rock or roll these days,
but I’d totally go see them play a house show if they ever rolled through
Oakland.
-
- Jacob An Kittenplan
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