Lovesick Ain't No Good

Do you like Spiritualized? I like Spiritualized. No matter how bombastic Mr. Pierce gets, I lap up all the dopesick longing. More oboes? Yes, more oboes. Here’s your suicide note on cello. Your farewell to rehab on French Horn. Could the man sound any more weary? Apparently, the new record, which I neglectfully omitted from my industry-rattling top-of-the-year list, was written, recorded and mixed while he was lying comatose in a London hospital. The priest read last rites at the end of each take, to consecrate the figurative and nearly literal dead. I heard he lived to play Letterman in a 13th Floor Elevators t-shirt. The reviews were good. The new record, Songs in A&E, is terrific. I know because I’ve been listening to it as my late-Sunday-afternoon coolout record for months, the only thing that can ease me down from Little League. Lovesick dopesick hatesick- it’s all part of the same disease, and I got it every Sunday. Nice to know somebody takes it further and then brings it back to salve suburban pain. The grass is always filled with more blood-drenched syringes on the other side.