Neutral Milk Hotel rounding up votes for magical spinning music and light machine.
Hey, it got our pulses doing double time. It isn't every day that you see Neutral Milk Hotel's name popping up in current events. And it definitely isn't every day that you get quote material from founders Julian Koster and Jeff Magnum.
So, when a wearied blogger starved for neo-antique freak-grunge-folk sees this holy trinity aligning in a news piece, he throws on his copy of On Avery Island and waits with bated breath.
Well, unbate thy breath, NMH fans. While it IS, technically, a bit of Neutral Milk Hotel news, it contains none of the juicy info you might expect. And yet, once the initial disappointment wears off, the cause currently uniting them is oddly touching. You might even be compelled to take part.
The Paragon Carousel is 81 years old, a work of bygone majesty, that sits in Hull, Massachusets. See the above picture for a general idea. This ain't the kind of carousel you see outside a home depot with a coin slot and a start button on the side. This is the real McCoy.
Well, as seems to be city hall's wont with everything old, statuesque and valuable, Hull, MA wants to raze it to rubble. The carousel is up for a $100,000 grant to save its ponies from the glue factory, and Neutral Milk Hotel is here to help, like a troupe of Supermen in flannel capes and two day growths.
Here's an excerpt from their letter (read the whole thing here):
The Paragon Carousel is a beautiful machine that has been my dear neighbor for many moons. Now 81 years old, it is in need of a little love and attention in order for it to survive.The interested can vote once a day until May 17 on behalf of the carousel here. Hey-- it might not be the announcement of a follow up to Aeroplane, but it was enough to get Gimme Noise's vote. Here's hoping it gets yours too.
It is my sincere wish for the Paragon Carousel to be a part of the magic of long seaside summer afternoons for many years to come. But it might not get to.
Unfortunately, we live in a world where the great whirling contraptions of mechanical music and light are not as profitable to operate as other things, and carousels are worth much more taken apart and sold in pieces to museums, where one must pay to look at them behind glass, rather than having them simply existing in the world that we now all share.