Some Kinda Love

Above pic via Fen Branklin

So, as everyone knows, last Tuesday was Election Day. It was a pretty big day for Philly, with new mayor Michael Nutter being elected and all. If you’ve been following the news, you may have seen that Philadelphia has one of the worst murder rates in the entire country giving our new mayor a lot to deal with in his first couple months. To date, we’ve tallied up 351 murders, something like 1.1 per day. In the most recent Philadelphia Weekly, a writer referred to Philadelphia’s current state as “Baghdad with cheesesteaks” and Killadelphia.

I like to consider myself somewhat politically active, but I didn’t vote on Tuesday. Given Philly’s current “state of emergency,” I was disappointed in myself by not voting, not only did I space on the date, but I never even took the time to register to vote in Pennsylvania or change my ID. As stupid as it sounds, I guess I’m still clinging to my last ties to my former New York address.

I love New York, I always have and I always will. Philly, with its grittiness, empty streets, state stores, die-hard Eagles fans (seriously, I made the mistake of walking into the local pub the second the Eagles lost to the Bears a few weeks back and thought someone was going to rip my head off), last-calls, peculiar show attendance, violence, and crime has been a tough place to truly embrace. On top of that, I’ve constantly been traveling from DC, to Baltimore, to Chicago, to New York (of course) and back again. I’ve maybe spent a total of a half a dozen full weekends in the City of Brotherly Love since moving from Manhattan. With all this running around, I don’t think I ever felt settled here.

It wasn’t until last night; on the way back from one of these jawns to DC that I finally felt like this city was my home. I was with a friend of mine who absolutely loves Philly, but recently moved away and really misses it. We were coming up 95 and she said we’re almost there and I said “I don’t see it (Philly)” and she’s like “its right there.” I made a typical “me” comment about the lack of a skyline as I strained my eyes to see it while cruising by Lincoln Financial Field. It was in fact there, a dozen skyscrapers or so, not very impressive and mostly unlit for some reason; PSFS (I always wondered what that stood for), the liberties, the Comcast center, and that damn scrolling marquee. She said “it’s not New York.”

Trust me, I know this is a music blog and this “story” is in fact going somewhere, musically related that is. As we came into Philly, my friend put on “After Hours” by The Velvet Underground and it was just perfect. VU drummer Maureen Tucker sang “one, two, three…if you close the door…” as we drove past City Hall with its yellow clock face, gorgeous black statues, and gleaming white granite topped with William Penn. It’s a beautiful and impressive building to say the very least. I haven’t listened to The Velvet Underground since moving here, but for some reason it just fit…the mood, the time, the city. After we said our goodbyes and I got home, I put on the entire record (I’m still listening to it as I write this) and for the very first time (with the help of a friend and Lou Reed) I can honestly say that this city, given its shortcomings, has finally won me over. My friend is right, it’s not New York and it doesn’t have to be…

[MP3]: The Velvet Underground  ”Some Kinda Love”
The Velvet Underground, MGM/Verve; 1969