Fuck Summer, Let's Fall!

Summer is over. Done. Gone. To say it aloud or read it in print has a certain achiness to it. I'll be the first to admit that I'm an extremely nostalgic person. I pine for the days that never actually existed. I create fantastic realities out of the ether about my past. Put me in Coney Island for one shitty, rainy October day and I'll turn it into a summer spent carousing the boardwalk, eating funnel cake and sipping Coke from a straw, catching glimpses of the summertime girls in their summertime swimsuits, doing sweet summertime things.

But truth be told, summer blows. It's too hot. It's muggy. Bugs are everywhere and the water is still too cold to swim. Who really swims anyways? Sharks are dicks, and they're everywhere. Fucking EVERYWHERE. And Coney Island? It's all Russians, all the time.

Then Fall comes around, and it's all I can think about... Summer: that syrupy season of my long-lost youth. It's not so much a season as it is an ideal. We yearn for it, but it never really happened, and never will. We'll get older, grayer, and gayer, and with each passing year the longing will only get worse.

I'm going to take the next couple of months to cry about imaginary long-lost girlfriends on the beach and old-timey necking sessions. In the meantime, enjoy Real Estate. They're made from real bits of New Jersey...so you know it works. They have a new record, "Days", out on Domino next week.



Here's another track from their self-titled debut on Woodsist (A label I HIGHLY recommend checking out!)



Hurts, don't it?