Dear Mouth reader, I have a problem. I’m in a love square and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve been seduced by that sensation you get when you fall in love, and I’m talking blind, unreasonable, inexplicable euphoric love. When you hear a song for the fifth time and it’s like the first, the play counts on iTunes pushes from the tens into the hundreds and your neighbour complains about ‘that bloody song again.’ Well, it’s happened three times in quick succession and, as Dusty Springfield would say, I just don’t know what to do with myself.
It all started when I fell in love with a song called ‘Treat Me Like Fire’ by Lion Babe and it was going so well. With its peaceful bass beats and melodic sensual lyrics, it was there for me on the commute, after dinner and that time at 1am when I couldn’t get to sleep. Its powerful minimalism carried me through many a hectic day, and I loved it for that.
But then I encountered Top Less’ single ‘Danger Love.’ This synthy-poppy bunch are straight outta Vancouver and released their debut album just a few weeks ago. This song has a quiet autumn evening stamped all over it and perfectly depicts the curious, cautious beginnings of a relationship that can quickly become a spiral of emotions. The strings and sparse drum beats resonated in my ears with the casual ease of a lover’s heartbeat.
…I’ve been plunged deep into music turmoil…
I was handling this situation pretty well: putting a passcode on my phone, eating a light dinner with one so I can get a burger with the other later, going incognito on Google Chrome so one wouldn’t know that I’d been googling the other. It all started to fall apart when I met Franz Ferdinand’s ‘Fresh Strawberries’ and I’ve been plunged deep into music turmoil. It’s not easy to pick one track from what is an excellent album, but the simple juxtaposition of a topsy-turvy relationship with a punnet of strawberries has shot me straight back to summer as the jittery guitar lines pick at my heartstrings and Alex Kaparnos’ casually slurry vocals slide into my ears.
I feel like a dirty cheat, which is fantastically fun in one sense, emotionally devastating in another. I would love to give each song my heart, but for now it’s been split into three, my heartstrings torn to their limits, my ears strangely confused between guitar strings and deep bass. And now I’ve just pressed play on The Weeknd’s new album.
Reader, it’s become a love pentagon.