I Take Tea at Three

I have been listening to Let It Bleed non-stop for two days, and 4 decades. This record is a direct current coursing through my body. Let It Bleed is an albatross I don’t mind wearing. Let It Bleed led to almost every debauched, gorgeous experience that took place throughout my life. I listen to it when I need to feel. Not when I need to remember. Let It Bleed is like a stranger you fall in love with. A lover who will remain a stranger, because lovers always remain complete strangers no matter how immersed they become. Let It Bleed propels itself through my yearning and desperation just like being in love.

I am thin, not anorexic. I am not sequestered in my bedroom with wax envelopes hidden in all my precious little trinket boxes. I am thin with longing. There is nothing sentient here, and boredom begets danger. This is plausibly a case of the honky tonk blues. Blues brought on by getting rid of nasty habits? Could be the war fought between the buttons of a stimulating life, which can also be incredibly tedious. Let It Bleed promises salvation is just a kiss away, kiss away, kiss away.

Things that once felt like anarchy turned out to be decay. Boys who wanted to be girls left, rock stars who needed me, and then didn’t, left. I am ephemeral! I choose to be. It looks so glamorous, truth told, it is glamorous. Being someone to bleed on, dream on, and hand someone a cup filled with scented jasmine tea; I love it.   How long did my diaphanous scarves hold up? There were times I became torn and frayed before my scarves did, but I still wear them. And they look good. However, today I am not malleable enough to let anyone cream on me. Okay, maybe Mick or Keith circa 1969. Otherwise no.

I’ve held my own with many a midnight rambler. I am not some girl. I will tell you those stories, but not today. Right now I am fervently looking into the grooves of Let It Bleed intent on sucking out its secrets. I do this knowing mission accomplished will leave me a quivering mass on the floor. This album has held my molecules intact for decades. Translucent metamorphosis is not on today’s agenda. I will wear an Irish sweater in August before I let you see through me.

Feeling like a sack of broken eggs, I always make my bed. Do you? Here comes the finale of “Monkey Man,” slide guitar, piano, and perhaps Mick’s greatest recorded vocal. Everything I imagined oozing out of me is suddenly replenished. Damn, I can still internalize this current without electrocuting myself. Two days, four decades, and we’re both unyielding.

All my love’s in vain. I will never get to the bottom of Let It Bleed. But, like always, I got what I need. My skinny ass is swaggering out of this stifling room to figure out what I want.

-For Shelly who let me lean from the very first jolt (and still does).

Author: debbiessong

It's about the music, and it's about my life. I am a facilitator, a muse, a stylish girl, and a worker among workers. I am a recovering addict/alcoholic. A living testament that, “more will be revealed.” I am a record executive, a teacher, a music lover, a writer and one hell of a gardener. I devour books, and put on outfits to read them. I put on outfits to do most anything. Seriously, I put on leather pants to write. I am a zeitgeist and a supreme organizer of other’s insanity, while I try to hide my own. I do a mean headstand. I am a friend to rock stars, artists of all mediums, academics, entrepreneurs, the have been, the have-nots, and housewives. I am a devoted dog mommy. I am obsessed with tragic women, and in love with powerful women. Being a woman makes me indescribable, although I am sitting here quite comically trying. Past professions include; A&R executive for 20 years. Queens of the Stone Age, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Monster Magnet, Uncle Tupelo, DGeneration, Blessid Union of Souls were some of the artists I signed and there are many others who floated around my universe. I taught high school English in Jersey City, Providence RI, Summit NJ, Hackensack NJ and then decided I hated it. I have been a yoga instructor, a talent buyer/promoter for a NYC lower east side nightclub, even a hostess (honesty is a currency). Recently I was given the support to write a book. Amidst my goals and dreams I try to put my head where my feet are and move forward. That practice works only when I employ the program I embrace, and the exceptional human beings (including 2 dogs and one mom) I keep close. I daily remind myself of how blessed I am. I tragically lost someone. Relationships are never accidental. I have stories. He urged me to write them. Gary, I lost the words (and the car). You said, “I forgive you everything,” as well as, “Are you writing?” “Are you writing?” “Are you writing?” ‘Debbie’s Song’ was first heard on InsidePlaya. Hey Gary! I can’t find the car, but I promise I will find my voice. BTW: For those of you who have written to me in all the various forms of social media I cannot put the right words to the inspiration you give me. I always, Wow!" xxxx, Debbie View all posts by debbiessong