There’s
something about John K Samson's songs that have always spoken to me. From his
early offerings in Propagandhi all the way through his most recent solo record,
the wildly underrated Winter Wheat. But for my money, no record is as good as
Left And Leaving. It’s the first Weakerthans record I heard, and still the one
I love the most.
On the title track, Samson directly addresses the feeling someone might get coming back home to cold, miserable weather on a bleak, grey day in December: “My city’s still breathing (but barely, it’s true) through buildings gone missing like teeth/the sidewalks are watching me think about you, sparkled with broken glass.” It’s not a completely defeated statement, although the sombreness of the track might imply it. It’s a silent anger, you can have so much love for your city, and it consistently lets you down. Sometimes, living there, you feel like there’s nothing left to do to save it, but keep trying anyway, as if some spectacular resilience and a fast hold to the belief things can get better will be enough. That’s the moment something’s gotta give, you’re left or you’re leaving.
On the title track, Samson directly addresses the feeling someone might get coming back home to cold, miserable weather on a bleak, grey day in December: “My city’s still breathing (but barely, it’s true) through buildings gone missing like teeth/the sidewalks are watching me think about you, sparkled with broken glass.” It’s not a completely defeated statement, although the sombreness of the track might imply it. It’s a silent anger, you can have so much love for your city, and it consistently lets you down. Sometimes, living there, you feel like there’s nothing left to do to save it, but keep trying anyway, as if some spectacular resilience and a fast hold to the belief things can get better will be enough. That’s the moment something’s gotta give, you’re left or you’re leaving.
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