S is for Something I Can Never Have

I loved Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine when it came out in 1989...it was like listening to Front 242's Belgian "New Beat" techno, with the anger of Ministry (minus the metal influence), the moodiness of the Cure, and the atmosphere of 4AD bands, specifically This Mortal Coil. This track in particular could have easily made it onto TMC's Filigree and Shadow.

This track popped up while emmalyon and I were talking about our train and bus escapades while we were in college. It got me remembering how I'd plan on heading home for the weekend every now and again. There were two main reasons for this...one was to see my then-girlfriend Tracey, obviously. The other was to visit the family (and, of course, do a bit of food-mooching or at least grocery shopping, as well as doing my laundry for free). I always planned it out to spend as much time as I could with the family and friends, so I'd always head out on Friday night, either after my last class or after I had dinner at the school cafeteria. I'd jump on the T and head either to North Station (taking the Green Line all the way in) or to Porter Square (switching at Park Street to the Red Line and heading up to that stop). I'd often have a backpack as well as a big gym bag--the backpack usually carrying my homework or my poetry notebooks and whatnot, and the gym bag carrying my dirty laundry. Also in the backpack was my walkman and a few tapes to listen to while on the trip.

Most of the time I'd use the trip to think about things. I was a pretty moody bastard at the time and listening to the stuff I listened to then didn't exacerbate said moods...more often than not, they'd amplify them. Pretty Hate Machine was on heavy rotation at the time, so I'd find myself writing some pretty angry and stark lyrics and poetry. I was in that typical college-age "not where I want to be" funk that everyone gets, and even though I knew very well that it was of my own making, I still let it get the best of me.

Thing is, this was actually cathartic for me. I also knew that my anger and frustration was in my social and academic situation in college, so I'd bring the emotions to their logical endpoints just to get them out of my system; that way, I'd return to sanity by the time I headed back on Sunday afternoon. By the time the train rolled into North Station, it would be early evening, and pulling into the city at night was always something to look forward to. I'd head back to the dorm with food and clean clothes and a MUCH better mood.