A man meets a lot of buttons in his life, especially if they like indie rock and have an eBay account. I'm friends, currently, with a lot of buttons. There's a Go! Team one on my jacket that I got from Sub Pop for pre-ordering their new album. There's a big X-Men one from 1988 on my messenger bag, as well as a David Letterman one from my aunt in Bowling Green, Kentucky. There are dozens more X-Men ones at home, and half as many Strokes ones. I even have a Nightcrawler badge that I got overseas. But over the years, none have been as much of a treasure as you, Futureheads button.
The time we spent together was started by fate. When the band's debut album came out in the summer of 2004, their record label sent promo buttons to my college's radio station, WMTS. You were given to me by my good friend who also happened to be the music director at the time. Yes, it was a "sure, I'll take it if you're giving it away" moment when I first met you, but that's what made you special. You lived on the rubbery fabric cover to my 64 CD carrying case, where I would see you day in and day out as I made my musical selections both in my car and on the radio show I co-hosted.
As for the Futureheads themselves, they would slowly become one of my favorite bands. I had probably heard "A to B" when I was given you, downloaded from Entertainment Weekly's website. Maybe I had also heard "Decent Days & Nights" somewhere as well. Both were good, but I didn't know then that they were great. It wasn't until I got my iPod for Christmas of 2004 that I finally began to appreciate the band that you so proudly represented. You moved from my CD case to my wardrobe.
You attached yourself rather nicely to my sweaters in the winter and my short-sleeve button downs in the summer. I wore you on my sweater vest that I bought at H&M, my first New York City outfit. I wore you almost exclusively on my sweater vest for a while, since said outfit reminded me of what the Futureheads actually wear. But just being another button in my collection wasn't enough for you. As the cold winter of 2006 set in and the moody tunes of News & Tributes, the band's second album, began to become the soundtrack to my lonlier moments in New York...you were promoted to the top of the collection. You were placed on my denim jacket.
The buttons on my denim jacket represented my favorite bands. For at least two years, the buttons on the jacket did not change. The same Oasis, Strokes and Features buttons all remained in their same spot, leaving their imprints in the fabric when eventually taken off. I made room for you, Futureheads button, because of the love I have for the band you depict and the serendipitous nature of our meeting.
And then, somehow, you disappeared. I wore my denim jacket yesterday since it was not too hot nor too cold. I noticed you were missing when I was leaving work. I searched my closet at home, hoping that you had somehow been knocked off. I searched my office too, but with no luck. You're out there somewhere, on the disgusting streets of Chinatown. I've failed you.
What can one person say when such an important piece of their wardrobe is lost to them? The Futureheads are releasing a new album in a few months and have now released three new spectacular songs. I want to wear you to show the world that I support this band. And now I can't.
The time we spent together was started by fate. When the band's debut album came out in the summer of 2004, their record label sent promo buttons to my college's radio station, WMTS. You were given to me by my good friend who also happened to be the music director at the time. Yes, it was a "sure, I'll take it if you're giving it away" moment when I first met you, but that's what made you special. You lived on the rubbery fabric cover to my 64 CD carrying case, where I would see you day in and day out as I made my musical selections both in my car and on the radio show I co-hosted.
As for the Futureheads themselves, they would slowly become one of my favorite bands. I had probably heard "A to B" when I was given you, downloaded from Entertainment Weekly's website. Maybe I had also heard "Decent Days & Nights" somewhere as well. Both were good, but I didn't know then that they were great. It wasn't until I got my iPod for Christmas of 2004 that I finally began to appreciate the band that you so proudly represented. You moved from my CD case to my wardrobe.
You attached yourself rather nicely to my sweaters in the winter and my short-sleeve button downs in the summer. I wore you on my sweater vest that I bought at H&M, my first New York City outfit. I wore you almost exclusively on my sweater vest for a while, since said outfit reminded me of what the Futureheads actually wear. But just being another button in my collection wasn't enough for you. As the cold winter of 2006 set in and the moody tunes of News & Tributes, the band's second album, began to become the soundtrack to my lonlier moments in New York...you were promoted to the top of the collection. You were placed on my denim jacket.
The buttons on my denim jacket represented my favorite bands. For at least two years, the buttons on the jacket did not change. The same Oasis, Strokes and Features buttons all remained in their same spot, leaving their imprints in the fabric when eventually taken off. I made room for you, Futureheads button, because of the love I have for the band you depict and the serendipitous nature of our meeting.
And then, somehow, you disappeared. I wore my denim jacket yesterday since it was not too hot nor too cold. I noticed you were missing when I was leaving work. I searched my closet at home, hoping that you had somehow been knocked off. I searched my office too, but with no luck. You're out there somewhere, on the disgusting streets of Chinatown. I've failed you.
What can one person say when such an important piece of their wardrobe is lost to them? The Futureheads are releasing a new album in a few months and have now released three new spectacular songs. I want to wear you to show the world that I support this band. And now I can't.
I found a packet of your brothers and sisters on eBay bundled with a pack of guitar strings autographed by the Futureheads. I'm going to buy them and wear them. This time, not only will I be wearing them to support one of my favorite bands. I'll be wearing them in rememberance of you, Futureheads button.Goodbye, Futureheads button. May you find peace.
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