King Krule's New Album: Solace in the Face of Misery
by Mike Ramos
on Sat, Dec 14, 2013 at 1:25 PM
You would not believe the somber, low voice that comes out of this kid.
I. "Easy Easy"
Just a week ago, she got laid off from her dead-end job that had been eating away at her life. Five minutes late, one too many times. They didn't offer her a severance package, and the unemployment office denied her benefits.
When she wasn't sleeping or crying or watching Netflix or infinite-scrolling through her cesspool of a Tumblr dashboard, she scoured Craigslist for jobs, and to more interesting effect, gigs. She found one that didn't require nudity or a headshot; she only had to show up and participate in some consulting agency's focus group in the South End, and she'd get an easy $100.
She didn't have a car, so it took her one bus ride to get downtown and another on the number 7—the only bus route in Seattle to have an article written about it in the city newspaper ("A Colorful Part of Daily Life for Riders," the honky-ass headline said)—to get to the Orcas Street stop on Rainier Avenue. She didn't have a smartphone, so she couldn't tell she was walking in the opposite direction for 12 blocks.
More than 3,000 miles from her hometown with a Seattle fall approaching, a court case pending, and the feeling that she would never "grow up" or amount to shit taking hold, she collapsed on the curb across the street from Brighton Elementary School and cried. Hard. Harder than she had cried in years.