Music.

I know I am not the only one to live for music. To feel so enraptured by it, I might spontaneously orgasm at any moment. Others express it better, yes, but my music, my god of gods, are speaking to me again.

Radiohead's newest album was released today. Errr, technically yesterday, but I have not slept yet for the night, so I am still on Tuesday time.

I really missed Boston on Monday, June 9th at 8 pm. I missed going to Newbury Comics at 9pm and gleefully anticipating the three hour wait until they would put the CDs in my hands. Talking to the other obsessees. Making new friends. Feeling ok attending the event alone. Seeing the same people you saw at the last release party. Some even wearing the same homemmade hate signifying that they were the first to arrive.

Calling Meijers only to find out that their supplier does not supply until Tuesday morning was gravely disappointing. Going there after work on Tuesday evening? Not the same. Not getting to hear the preview of the CD while we wait in line, as a local radio station gives trivia quizzes, prizes and other fun activities....

I missed it. I am sad. I am sad that it makes me sad.

But, I now have my CD, so I am beyond elated.

Sure, like most Radiohead cult members, I had already heard at least portions of the album. I am something of a purist, however, and I really resisted downloading the entire album. I downloaded teasers for myself, but then gave up, because my download speed is so slow.

Thank god for that. I felt like a heroin addict going trying to cold turkey it without methadone. The addict who goes for one last hit, because they can't take the withdrawal, but winds up with nothing, because their dealer raised the price and they can't afford it.

Now? I am swimming in the clouds somewhere. Sailing to the moon. I feel like floating. Candle-lit, smoky haze of light surrounding me, moonbeams shining down on me, my spirits lift at the mere presence of this album in my CD player.

To hear it takes me to a new world. It makes me feel in ways I cannot describe.

I posted my take on the upcoming album at Bitchfest recently and spoke of how each album is a religious experience for me. Their last concert was my Mecca. The end of my long pilgrimage.

So devoted was I that I showed up 7 hours before the start of the concert, wound up one of the first in line and claimed by spot in the first few rows of the pit (whcih only held about 3000 people). My only gripe is that I was too out of shape to run fast enough to make it to the first row. I left my friends behind, because they could not arrive until hours later. They sat in the back pews with the rest of the Sunday catholics on Easter Sunday, arriving too late to claim a seat, while we religious folk sat in the comfy main pews.

My favorite grey shirt is still darkened by the sweat stains that dampened my entire shirt (very literally, as it was humid, about 95 degrees not counting the heat of all the squished pit bodies and not a breeze to be had) and I never did find anyone with whom I was supposed to go, but the pure, raw elation I felt afterward made the entire experience well worth it.

I am not religious by nature. But, I believe in Radiohead and Thom is my god. They provided me with the closest thing to a religious experience I will ever have.

He lifts me up, he speaks only to me, he makes me transcend.

He sails me to the moon.