#5 Steam Engine by My Morning Jacket
Permanence. As much as this song is a celebration of the band's lustrous oceans of sound and Jim James' battered, towering vocals and humming twilight rays of slide guitar, it is about permanence. It is about recognizing the toxicity and transience in all the things we ascribe meaning and substance to. It is about how these things mean nothing. It is about how the awfulness that falls through a person exists wholly, is inherently designed, to end. And how the irrevocable instances of our lives, the ability for songs to sink through our skin and set our blood alight, everything that matters, really truly you-know-it matters, that those things know no end. They go on and on and on and on, like a steam engine. Get it?
#6 Heartbeats by The Knife
Heartbeats is a love song, through and through. In most cases this would entail a harkening to better days passed, or a lamenting of futures unrealized, perceptions betrayed, emotions unreciprocated, but this song is none of these things. This song is a refutation of these things. Through the unrelenting backbeat, the ever-ascending synths, the exalted siren vocals, The Knife construct a love affair that exists outside of the aforementioned. In this song, love isn't a sum of moments, or an escape to another place, it exists entirely in the moment, in a moment of pure reciprocation, of two heartbeats fighting for synchronicity, of silent minds and furious bodies, a moment of two people actually loving each other enough to fold solely into that pocket of time together and to live so much within that moment that nothing exists beyond it and nothing can make it end. It is great.
This song is pure audio sublimity. This is the hypnotic lullaby that plays in your most immersive dreams to loft you back to reality. It gets to a point that the lyrics' importance is almost entirely negated. Eloquence aside, who gives a flippity frak what this song is about. For Car Car, it's about the 2007 Hillary Swank movie, The Reckoning. Hillary Swank is the Reckoner, because she's real gross, but she can act. Which is something to reckon, he supposes. To CP, certain things aren't meant to be intellectualized, because it undermines their ineffability or something or the other or the what-have-you. This is certainly one such case.
Heartbeats is a love song, through and through. In most cases this would entail a harkening to better days passed, or a lamenting of futures unrealized, perceptions betrayed, emotions unreciprocated, but this song is none of these things. This song is a refutation of these things. Through the unrelenting backbeat, the ever-ascending synths, the exalted siren vocals, The Knife construct a love affair that exists outside of the aforementioned. In this song, love isn't a sum of moments, or an escape to another place, it exists entirely in the moment, in a moment of pure reciprocation, of two heartbeats fighting for synchronicity, of silent minds and furious bodies, a moment of two people actually loving each other enough to fold solely into that pocket of time together and to live so much within that moment that nothing exists beyond it and nothing can make it end. It is great.#7 Reckoner by Radiohead
This song is pure audio sublimity. This is the hypnotic lullaby that plays in your most immersive dreams to loft you back to reality. It gets to a point that the lyrics' importance is almost entirely negated. Eloquence aside, who gives a flippity frak what this song is about. For Car Car, it's about the 2007 Hillary Swank movie, The Reckoning. Hillary Swank is the Reckoner, because she's real gross, but she can act. Which is something to reckon, he supposes. To CP, certain things aren't meant to be intellectualized, because it undermines their ineffability or something or the other or the what-have-you. This is certainly one such case.
1 comment:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CARMEN!!!!!
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