February 28th, 2008
Port O’Brien
On a shelf near my desk stands a little wood-carved statue of an old, grizzled, peg legged sea captain. Holding a spyglass in one hand and a smoking pipe in another, he stands proud and steadfast, the dark holes of his eyes staring directly at me. His gaze quizzes me as to why I never listen to music which reminds him of the sea, of his journeys now past and far behind him to shores far and breathtaking.
As such, he was enchanted to listen to some Port O’Brien and their clamorous romp entitled I Woke Up Today. Its wonderfully energetic folk sounds come alive with a blaring chorus of voices, hailing the greatness and wonder of the ocean’s liberating surge. It’s a hand clapping, foot stomping acoustic shuffle which has that get-together vibe of group singing and alcohol-infused r-and-r.
So now the captain, steady as ever, seems to have found a gleam in his eye which he thought he had abandoned on a distant travel so long ago. Which, really, is all just in my head because he’s just a wooden statue, for fuck’s sake.