I stumbled upon Roommate's song RP (Forget The Metaphors) on Salon.com awhile back. The lyrics sound like a letter, a really good letter, or a story a friend would tell you in the middle of the night after one too many drinks. It popped into my head today, so I looked up Roommate's website. I was at work, listening to completely different music - old, mangled, funky reel-to-reel tapes from Belize - and I stood in the server room, which was very cold, to listen to the song again through tiny, lo-fi G4 speakers. (Ironically, my Mac is not hooked up to the gigantic monitors that dominate my office). I had to listen to the whole song again. The sweet piano, the tender voice. A little sad, a little nostalgic, a little cold, a little raw.