And Then There is No Mystery Left

I GET LOCKED into songs when I'm writing. Usually one per script. I don't know why. It's different than having an earworm, cause it's not that you need to get a song out of your head and can't. I think it's more of an OCD thing. I want to hear that one song over and over and over when I'm writing a script. Usually it's got nothing to do with the subject matter of the script, or even the mood -- in fact, that's preferable. But sometimes stuff leaks through.

The last Border episode I wrote, which was a bit of a departure, it was Dylan doing "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright."

They usually tend to be depressos, my script songs. Because if they're too upbeat, I kind of want to, you know, dance about and be foolish not sit there and pound keyboard. But I'm very lucky that I have the recessive gene that means listening to sad songs makes me feel WAY better.

Speaking of which, I just paid nine damn Euros to download Lisa Hannigan's solo album. Thanks a lot, Bat. Bastard.

The secret to the script song is that it has to be something you're already familiar with. Nothing new.

Now I'm embarking on the penultimate episode of Season Two of The Border. There's people connecting and lying to each other, and darkness and pressure at the core in relationships, and there's much of that swirling around in my life right now, too. So welcome to my Script Song for this episode. The lyrics of this one? Killer. Killer first line.

Step up, Rilo Kiley.



Jenny Lewis is my secret girlfriend. For reals. If for no other reason than she posted her reaction to the Paris Hilton sex tape on YouTube. This is adorable. And, uh, NSFW, I guess.



C'mon. You gotta love that. Alright. Back to the grind.