Boards of Canada
In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country
Warp Records

Saturday morning. At once upon a time it used to mean cartoons from the break of dawn until American Bandstand, and only one thing could keep us from them. Theophulus' pigeons.

Theophulus was The Janitor at my elementary school. He used to drive an old light blue pick-up. And in the back were birdcages, made from scrap wood and chicken wire. Rickety things and filled with pigeons on a saturday morning. Homing pigeons.

Four neighborhood Sting-Ray's leaning against the backdrop of the diamond, handlebars poking through the holes and us on the top of the bleachers facing the parking lot and dreaming up stories. Mostly behindenemylinescovertoperations kinds of stories. Only the 60's and kids already watching too much T.V. But this wasn't Land of the Lost. Or Super Friends. Not even The Banana Splits were this exciting...

Secret messages clasped to their scrawny and itching to fly legs, he would hold each bird in both hands and close to his body. Looking down, he'd whisper some more instructions, kiss the top of their heads, and then chestpass them into the schoolyard air. Eyes glued to their clandestine flight until we could see them no more.

Listening to Boards of Canada is like those early mornings. The quiet. The chill. The lazy weekend rhythm. Like their last record, they even use some playground noises. Children playing. And laughing.

The vinyl is even light blue. Like Theophulus' truck. And the crisp flapping air of homing pigeons coming home.

Copyright © 2000 Alice Kenner