This song very rapidly and unexpectedly became my anthem for around the clock–walking to work, working, walking home, showering, and knowing me–singing it in my dreams. I never seek out Modest Mouse songs, they just sort of *find me* when I need them the most.
I think, in part, it was really the only appropriate theme song for my approaching-return-of-saturn apprehension. In general the lyrics are basically like, “if life isn’t gonna be a damn ball, then I’m fucking going down with it” hammered throughout with the “PLEASE bury me with it!” This was clicking really well with my nostalgic review of my 20’s–what was really rad that I don’t want to lose? What do I never want to experience ever, ever again? All underlined by Isaac Brock’s exasperated delivery of “I just don’t need none of that Mad Max bullshit.”
In terms of composition, the track has a lot of “regular visitors” from the Modest Mouse sound–not a bad thing. This quality helps you “feel like home” in many of their songs. I do love the little repeated bass licks in this track. It really helps keep it all moving forward. It’s also really fun to listen to how the drums and bass sort of flow in and out of each other–it’s very subtle, but is cool to focus on through a listen.
All in all, this is a great jam. In the same breath, I don’t know that I’d offer this as a first Modest Mouse song to a new listener. It’s sort of like your rowdy, drunk friend. They are a blast to hang out with, but it might be a little awkward to introduce them to a stranger before they sober up.
This song is so damn hypnotic. I considered not giving it a second shout out, since I’ve already reviewed it as new music–which, itself, was really just a redirect to the awesome Pfork review. BUT. It is really that fucking good.
I was already in love with it when I decided to make the purchase, and it has really blossomed into a steady obsession and is in the regular “pretend I’m a rock star in the shower” rotation. It has this slurry dubstep bass that just pulls at the raw part in my soul. This alone is enough to suck me into the jam time and again, but on top of that it has this beautiful sonic counterpoint of his soft, angelic melody floating through the verses–so that just as you are about to drift off into some falsetto induced reverie, you get hit with this deep, sludgy pounding that wakes you right the fuck up.
It really is a magic track. If you STILL haven’t listened, please. do. You won’t regret it, I promise. : D
This may have actually been the “on repeat” from August…or September…or October. Who fucking knows; life has been wild lately.
On the surface, this track has a lot of the acid-dripping markers of a typical Animal Collective scream-tinged song BUT there is actually a coherent storyline, or rather, picture being painted. If you cruise YouTube for live versions of Avey Tare, he is clearly behind most of the manic-anxious-obsessive/nostalgic themes (and it’s really obvious that album production involves a lot of taking his wild roars down a notch or five). Incidentally his lyrics are usually the ones that make any fucking sense at all. *heart*
There is a lot of juxtaposition happening between the bright electronic loops and steel drum parts and the very tangible bitter surrender to the current-of-life in lines like “you find out you can’t ask a baby to cry.” Deep harmonizing chords fall just a split second before each measure’s downbeat which give the whole song a sort of sticky feeling; like your brain is trudging through honey. So while one part of you is trying to be all drowning-in-sunshine, the other half is being carried non-stop by the interplay of the vocal melody and the bright counter melody. All of this comes with a light sprinkle of baroque-esque keyboard licks. By the time you get to the screamy “ya-dah, ya-dahs,” it feels like this cathartic release to the endless tide pushing you through the song.
Not unlike what I imagine it would feel like to wake up one day, 33, making decisions based on money rather than interest, feeling kinda achy, and exasperated that little Timmy has once again woken you up at 6am on a Saturday.