If Meghan Trainor is an example of the filthy fifth-stage dehydrated shit the very worst dregs of the corporate music system are capable of dredging from their bowels, Lily Wood and the Prick’s Prayer in C is the sort of thing we should play to delicate young men hanging off tall buildings surrounded by cops. If Om were struck by lightning or went through a Melvins Atlantic-years transformation they might approach the solipsistic mantric party-as-ritual. Functionally it’s a blasphemous prayer veiled in a broken love letter, it’s catchy like typhoid and has this haunting guitar line that serpently winds itself round your throat. It works as a party piece because it openly laughs at all of it. The video for the Robin Schulz remix is full of gaiety and partying but the scenes are hollow as the song talks about wrinkled hands, starving children and seas covering the land.
While I’m at it the new Ed Sheeran song is passable. I know, the Prince Harry-looking posterboy motherfucker of the New Boring has actually stopped right twice a day after all. It’s called Bloodstream and it has a palpable end-of-party nihilism. Of course as the beat shit chorus builds all that careful composition is lost as the entire thing becomes crowded and boring, but hey. If someone has been feeding you wallpaper paste, you’ll take anything.
Written under duress by Steven.