I’ve been listening to Circa Survive’s first two albums thisevening — they’re the only two I’ve held onto over the years; the more recent ones are too pop-y, too accessible. They don’t capture Anthony’s voice proper; they don’t frame it in the particular way which is necessary.
Of the two, 2005’s Juturna, and 2007’s On Letting Go, the latter has to be my favourite. It’s a more mature feel compared to the former though retaining the verdancy of colour.
There’re many albums from my teenagehood which I still listen to regularly. Circa is one of the more frequent relistens. I remember sitting in my old bedroom in what must’ve been around 2011 playing Minecraft on my netbook listening to “Mandala” as I drifted away into unreality. I also remember wanting to be Anthony Green (I was just getting into singing at the time). It was the energy, I think.
I was talking to James earlier where we recovered the familiar territory of fatherlessness in relation to my contention. Here’s a transcript of the important part of the conversation:
James: This question has come about because I had been thinking about your recent uploads (or reuploads, perhaps); one about your grandfather, but also your previous comments about the nature of traditionalism in English society. And my question is: how do you know your particular leanings philosophically on this matter as well as your general attitude are not of a servile dimension? Including your reach towards a more “masculine”… hmm… “chauvinism” isn’t the word I’m looking for, but it’s almost as if there is a level of, like I said, disquietude. As if you are afraid that someone will point to you and say “you’re not a real man.”
James: And by “servile dimension” I mean of the working class mentality that you may have inherited from your lineage.
Adam: I’m quite aware of these things, hence I don’t seek to misplace myself. It’s why I don’t push the more spiritual conversations with you, or anyone for that matter. I know it isn’t my place — or, rather, I am not yet equipped. Perhaps I never will be. The sooner I know, the better, though.
I see my circumstance as extremely unlucky and ultimately ambiguous, which causes inaction and often in the case of action at all, brash action. There are clear spiritual leanings in my character, but they are malformed, much like my body. I don’t know if it’s something I can ever correct. But, like I said, the sooner I know, the better. I’m sort-of stuck inbetween.
James: I see.
Adam: It’s like I’m trapped in a burning house. I can’t breathe. I don’t know whether to keep going to escape or just to let the flames take me. It’s going to be one or the other. — And that’s the higher part of me speaking, there. You see?
I still think of killing myself often. Every day.
James: I can sense that, really. Part of the reason why I really wanted to hear about the antinatalist — because he himself isn’t important, it was your reaction(s) to him that intrigued me. The way that you have no inner peace yet.
Adam: I think he’s a horrible cunt who should be mauled. The same — or worse — for his philosophy. But anyways I doubt I ever will find inner peace. I am likely to end-up offing myself. But there’s a slim veneer of uncertainty there, so I cannot dedicate myself to anything. Caught in limbo. Caught in limbo but looking towards Hell.
James: Hmm. It’s possible. There is that element of risk in my assessment of you, but that’s because you’re being offered a choice. Like the schoolmaster who doesn’t plead with the student to stay in his class or to leave, letting the young man make up his own mind so that it was his decision and no one else’s.
Adam: And that’s a mistake.
James: Why do you say that?
Adam: Because I need guidance. I need authority. Not want, but need — at the deepest level.
For your future’s sake
I’ve got advice I’d advise you to take
Don’t keep betting
“Well, it’s gotta light me up sometime”
You lost your turn
You lost your turn
~ Circa Survive – “On Letting Go”
As I went upstairs earlier to close my curtains, I was hit by the familiar smell of early Summertime as my window remains wide-open. Memories flashed-by of teenage romance, comradery with friends, security in naivety and comfort in ease. I’m no extrovert, but I miss the first half of my sixteenth year; so much was lost thereafter. There was a bliss at that time which I hope to re-encounter one day.