Phone by Magic Kids
Seth
"Phone," a sweet little number from Memphis power-poppers Magic Kids, opens with a quasi-melancholic swell of strings before launching into a deceptively bouncy ode to the tyranny of distance. Lead singer Bennett Foster's improbably high falsetto joins those other hallmarks of the power-pop genre--jingly toy piano, British Invasion keyboards, Motownish horns, bright guitar, and snappy drums--in a two minute sugar rush that, if you were ignoring the lyrics, would qualify these Kids for the Badfinger Award in Disposable Beatles Knockoffs.
Foster's lyrics, while erring a bit on the cloying side of the Twee Spectrum (I'm going to copyright that), provide a subtly dark contrast to the upbeat tone of the song's verses. He's in familiar territory, singing to a girl as he waits for her to call. As with all great rock writing, though, the devil is in the details. Lines like "I'm scared when you're leaving me here alone," and "I only exist when you see me" betray an alarming level of co-dependence. "Phone on my face as I'm lying awake in bed," he begins the next verse, before saying later "gonna hold you so tight while I'm dreaming..." in what might be the year's least likely reference to the works of Sir Philip Sidney. The amount of energy he seems to be expending just waiting on this phone call makes me think that Foster might be singing to a girl who doesn't even know he's alive rather than a traveling girlfriend.
Of course, I spent a lot of time with this song during a notably lonely time in my life last year, so maybe (definitely) that's all projection. Any song that can so thoroughly intertwine itself into a period of my life and evoke such strong associations deserves inclusion on my list. Besides that, this song is a pretty perfect blast of power-pop, a criminally underrated genre of the indie rock universe. Unfortunately, the rest of the Magic Kids record is more miss than hit, but their ability to write incredibly sweet and poppy songs (not to mention their dynamite live show) makes me hopeful about their future.
Andrew
This song is devious! At first listen, I thought "Phone" sounded like the theme song to a 1960's British version of Friends* but, my god, this song has taken root in the pleasure center of my brain and refuses to be plucked. That is some terrible writing, but this song makes me dumb with happiness!
I've been vocal in the past about my slight disdain for music that sounds like it could have been made in another decade. I have an unreasonable obsession with things that sound/look/taste like they are from here and now. But I'm coming around to music like this that strongly evokes another time. "Phone" brings me back to my days at Oxford with Nigel, Sophie, Reginald, and Ben Whishaw**. It makes me want to skip through the park in a sweater even though it's summertime.
All joking aside, I am really, really fond of this song. It's catchy, propulsive, combines disparate moods in the melody and lyrics (something that I am often enamored with) and doesn't outstay its welcome***. Though, I'm sorry Seth, but Foster's vocal delivery ranks about an "11" (or, "Belle and Sebastian Playing Croquet") on the Twee Spectrum. But, fuck it! Let's throw on some sweaters and an unreasonable amount of corduroy and skip through the park to this song the next time you're in town.
*It's called Mates and it's just as terrible as the American version.
**Who the fuck is Ben Whishaw? And how do the British get these names? Benedict Cumberbatch?! You are FUCKING with me!
***Who let these french horns in here? Scat! Scat!
No comments:
Post a Comment