I want to stand close to you, I want to be your friend

Dear Jolie Holland,

It's been a while since I've written you. There's no excuse really, but then again, can you blame me for not wanting to talk if you're not going to also be writing letters that are poorly disguised reviews of my music, or being in San Fransisco when I'm there with the express intention of breaking your heart, or trying to pawn off my music on your parents? Never have you reciprocated any of my gestures, and its only rarely that you even acknowledge them. Love is a two way street, Jolie, a thing that takes hard work and mutual recognition, two things that our relationship has decisively lacked.

That's why I'm writting to let you know that I've now moved on from our (admittedly lopsided) love affair to something else entirely. I've met someone new: Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lappelles. I went to their album release show two nights ago and now know where my metaphorical affections lie. Which means we, my dear, are finished.

"Why are they a better fit for him?" you may be asking yourself. First off, they are a group of people, whereas you are one person. You may think to yourself, "ah that's silly, you can't be in love with a group of people, that's just no feasible way to get over the emotional and logistical hurdles it requires." But your mistake was to assume I want a relationship: indeed, the genius of being secretly in love with a group of people is that it will be literally impossible to profess my love appropriately outside of an online context, because getting them all together in private would be a public event attended by at least half a dozen people. Love without commitment, Daniel Johnston style. Pure genius on my part. Such a shame it will never be yours again.

Secondly, Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lappelles have discovered a very interesting balance between being a backing band and a large ensemble, something that you, being one person, could never do. Though there is definitely a sense of having a center of attention in Lucy's staggering weird and wonderful vocals, one was never left with a sense that she was the sole center of attention, or of musical interestingness. There were bizzarro cello solos, lovely harmonizations, and seemingly unscheduled sing-alongs from the audience. For several songs Lucy Michelle was not even on stage, being waylaid at an actual piano just offstage. It was wonderful.

Do you know what would happen if you were to leave the stage Jolie? There wouldn't be any music, and people would wonder if you weren't secretly Chan Marhsall. You don't want that. I certainly don't want that.

Thirdly and maybe most importantly, Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lappelles make me want to live when I am at their shows, whereas at your shows I find myself requesting songs like "I Want To Die," and feeling cathartic and more than a little drunk in the aftermath. I could never dance at one of your shows. But did I dance with Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lappelles, in styles I didn't even know I could dance to. It was wonderful; I have never sweated with such ebullience. But somehow I don't think that that, or anything I've expressed here, is something you would understand, since as usual you aren't actually reading this.

Anyway, I hope this doesn't come as to much of a shock to you. Somehow I imagine it won't. Au Revoir, in any case.

Cordially,
John

P.S. Here's Lucy with a smaller group of Lappelles from earlier this year.