James ~ Laid
(written: 15 April 2004)
My new car lacks 'Magitune', the ummmm, the word that was printed on my previous stereo. With 'Magitune', I could somehow get Toronto radio stations from North Bay, to London. At least, I think 'Magitune' was responsible for that.
But my new car lacks the resilience to even tune the Edge in Elmira, here. What I do have, though, is a flashing red light that is supposed to look like an alarm is installed. Who are we trying to fool? It's a base model Accent with a factory stereo.
Since I cannot stomach many other radio stations, I went out and picked up a spindle of CDs, and got to burning... More importantly (and pertinent), I dug out the sticky dregs of my CD collection. I thought I would rediscover my old friend the compact disc, in all its faded glory.
Tonight I went to get a gyro. I threw in my one and only James CD (Laid), something I bought to round out my Columbia House obligations years ago. I had never listened to the whole thing; I bought it just for 'Laid', just like anyone, and then gave it another spin once I heard 'Say Something' on some bogus countdown of 'influential' artists.
It's a solid record. But James sure really liked The Smiths though, huh? Unfortunately one track stands out above all others, and that's the only track James will ever really be remembered for. As a music snob, I tend to ignore tracks like that... but this song is just so catchy, it will not be ignored.
'this bed is on fire / with passionate love'
This is that song that us students know always gets played before 'Home For A Rest' at the bar. I find it incredibly energetic to the point that the point is lost on me if I am not careful.
We've got a timeless tune that will get all the chemically-altered heads bobbing, and we've got some dirty dirrty lyrics that will get frat boy fatties- the ones trying to look pretty, but pretending like they don't look pretty- howling along.
'but she only comes / when she's on top'
Underneath the beer-soaked hooks is the story of 'us'. Or the story of 'yous'. Either way, a story which every living being is at least somewhat familiar. I'll sum it up as if I were talking about someone in specific: I hate you, but really fucking love you.
'fought with kitchen knives / and skeweeeeeeers'
I know about inter-relationship fighting. I would be lying if this song didn't remind me of the few times I have ever raised my voice, and meant it. (Even though in retrospect, I didn't mean it...)
Seinfeld wasn't wrong, though... when it comes to the good of, err, 'making up'. Some people wonder why I love arguing... I think because it builds a great deal of positive, comfortable tension... and intense sexual tension (with the right person, of course).
Hmm... love of arguing... I should have went to law school.
'dye my eyes and call me pretty...'
All this stuff really happens, it really does... well, if you interpret everything as metaphors like I do, anyway.
This stack of empty soda cans in front of me is totally an allegory for my inflating hopes, which I subconciously constructed whilst watching Saved By The Bell.
'i find you sleeping next to me / i thought i was alone / you're driving me crazy / when are you coming home?'
Yes, I know I was on cruise control last line, but this lyric is totally the money shot; the literal and figurative climax, sexual pleasure ejaculated into romantic eggs, engineering the total package of living relationship bliss.
James does a moving acoustic version of this song as well, keeping the lyrics under the thumb of melancholy strummings and tortured howlings in between verses. In this version, the lyric 'when are you coming home?' is stressed as the refrain... a reminder that after the sexual tension fades, there still ought to be longing...
Now I want to eat my gyro.
photo by kam