There's something about a cold, rainy day that makes me want to pull out my old Mazzy Star albums and cuddle up on the couch with a cup of coffee and a sweet roll. Okay, the sweet roll might be a little random, but its because Mazzy Star also reminds me of the summer I worked the opening shift at a tiny coffee shop in Wisconsin. I'd come in at 5:30am, just as the sweet rolls were coming out of the oven and I'd pop in my Mazzy Star tape (yes, as in cassette) and start the coffee brewing.
Every morning without fail, one particular elderly woman would wait outside in her car with the lights on until I flipped the "Open" sign at six. I tried a couple times to invite her in early, but she would shake her head and wait patiently in the car until we were officially open. Then she would make her way slowly to her usual table where I'd bring her a cup of coffee and a sweet roll and we'd wait quietly for the rest of the morning's customers to come in. She only ever had two things to talk about: 1) the deliciousness of her sweet roll and 2) "that racket" I had playing on the radio. I think that random woman may be the only person in history to refer to Hope Sandoval's soft, melancholic vocals as "that racket."
Here's a little racket to enjoy on a gloomy Maine day: Mazzy Star: Flowers in December