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Monday, Dec. 2, 2024
The Emory Wheel

The State That I Am In

With packs of doe-eyed freshmen wandering through campus and nervous seniors sweating their post-collegiate plans in the late August humidity, it's safe to declare the summer of 2013 over. I'll let the packs of cultural critics argue whether "Blurred Lines" or "Get Lucky" was the Song of the Summer (for the curious, I vote for the latter). Instead, here's a recap of my songs of the summer. Twenty years from now, these tracks will stir a melancholic nostalgia for the few months I lived in a filthy Lower East Side sublet and loved it.

Diane Coffee, "Green"

Agoura Hills has an surprisingly large presence in New York City, and I found myself rooming with Shaun Fleming, my former high school peer and the current touring drummer of psych rock upstarts Foxygen. We never crossed paths in our teenage years, but my first night in town, we traded Ziggy Stardust cuts in a half-full Korean karaoke bar. Foxygen is taking a hiatus between releases, and Fleming is using his free time to release a solo album under the Diane Coffee moniker. On his debut release My Friend Fish, Diane Coffee drifts away from Foxygen's trademark classic rock quotations and in turn injects some vintage R&B into the mix. "Green" features Fleming channeling a Jackson 5-era Michael, and the tune soundtracked many of my commutes to and from my desk-job summer gig.

Woods, "Be All Be Easy"

My internship wrapped up in early August, and a canceled Montreal trip left me with a week or so to kill before leaving the city. So naturally, I toured Manhattan's excellent selection of record shops, ultimately finding myself in East Village's infamous Kim's Video & Music. I returned home with the newest 7" from New York's ramshackle folk outfit Woods. "Be All Be Easy" first appeared as a stripped-down acoustic number on 2011's Sun and Shade, but the group rerecorded the song as a fleshed out, '60s pop goodbye to their old Brooklyn haunt and studio, Rear House. On the tune, frontman Jeremy Earl sings, "What falls apart and what won't come back," over the most nuanced arrangements Woods has released to date. The single reveals a band in transition, simultaneously looking backward lyrically yet moving forward musically. As I return to Atlanta for senior year, I can't help but relate.

Parquet Courts, "Master of My Craft"

After spending a few months abroad, I returned to my sleepy Los Angeles suburb Agoura Hills for a few weeks. Spurred by sheer boredom, my friend Ian and I decided to visit our old hangout The Echo to see a band called Parquet Courts. Neither of us had actually heard the band before, but once the foursome tore through the first song of their set of Strokes-ian garage rock, we jumped into the rowdy, sweat-drenched crowd. A few weeks later on a Manhattan pier, the New York-by-way-of-Texas act played a free festival sponsored by the Village Voice, but the ever-hip crowd stood cross-armed, sedated by the blistering sun. However, a single teen flailed wildly in the center of the crowd, determined to have a good time. I joined in.