Dedicated to those songs that I can't stop playing, humming, or thinking about; the 4+ minutes you fall head-over-heels in love with. Past instances have included Outkast's "Dracula's Wedding," David Bowie's "Starman," and The Clash's "Guns on the Roof."
It was bound to happen. Sooner or later in all my musical travels, I would eventually fall in love with a subject for review. I've been wondering about it for a while, funny enough. If I had to place odds then The Duke Spirit would have been the favorite. I reviewed their album, saw them live and slowly over the course of three months developed a steady, healthy listening relationship with Neptune. Then there's Evil Urges, that hot new fling getting your heart thundering and your pulse charging. For one steamy weekend we loved each other repeatedly, locking ourselves away from the rest of the world, hogging one another. But as in real life, the sexy glow of a one-weekend stand cannot hold up for very long. As it should be.
If you had seen me on that weekend though, you would have heard a different story about how the song and I were going to be together forever and ever. Nothing could stop us! Having to review an entire album without focusing solely on one song proved difficult. I nearly wrote myself out of THIS article. Clinically speaking, I was "gah-gah." I do not regret the review, nor do I disagree with its sentiments. It's just that things change. Time allows for a more thoughtful approach.
Think of your favorite movie in Junior High and how you would have reviewed it then. By my second paragraph on Batman, I would have needed a thesaurus to find new ways to say "awesome." Compare this with my 30+ self's potential review and you see the difference I'm dealing with now concerning "Evil Urges." Since that weekend I've experienced more, heard more. I've grown for crying out loud.
Two weeks ago I probably could have written five pages on the song, and I very nearly did. Now I feel almost obligated to write one. But it's not the song's fault. It's me. I changed. The song's absolute commitment to lust is heroic and the fact that it contains some of the most effective yet unintelligible lyrics only explains my fixation further. The lyrics are part of the song, and vice versa. Neither can exist without the other.
It absolutely had me from the opening drum blast, but where it really dug its nails in came around 2:05, the pre-bridge ascent. If the drum blast was our first across-the-room eye contact portion, then this pre-bridge movement is that slow motion, misty-lensed, shirt-unbuttoning portion. Naturally, My Morning Jacket follows this with the only appropriate first-night-hook-up move: the passionate make-out sex section at 3:02; belts disembark, bras unsnap and couches creak. It only goes to further support My Morning Jacket's abilities that they further continue the natural steps and come out of this passionate section to return us back to the real world at 4:00. The song could have easily stopped after the sex, but that's not the truth. Instead they return us back to the calmer but still affected real world. The aftershocks, the memories, of "that night" haunt this portion just as my love affair with the song haunt my life today. I presently occupy this part of the song. It's like a psychic biography was recorded four months before the actual events took place.
I just creeped myself out.
MP3 Download - "Evil Urges"