When I first heard this song I was in the back of a three-ton truck spray painting some venetian blinds brown. It was raining and cold. I was so confused after first listen that I listened again, right away. Then I listened again.
Unified under a lush two-minute-and-four-second landscape, the song’s differing parts create a wild journey of mounting anticipation. The brevity is thrilling. We start out with the kind of beat to which you can’t help but pop your head side to side with assertive funkiness. Your soul sings along with the catchy little keys. It morphs into a chorus that only an epicly heart-wrenching, seven minute ballad could boast, and yet here it is 40 seconds in. Then right before the minute mark we have a devastating breakdown, lead with the words, “That’s so sad.” This line is a giant set of tweezers that comes in and dislodges the pinched splinter of the croon. Like the pus oozing out of a wound in a Studio Ghibli film, whatever comes out does so in the form of a hopeful, stereo 12-string jangle. As he weeps “lost control,” you can tell something big is dawning on the horizon. When he mentions the “precious china” I feel such a lightness in the silliness of the sentiment and the words, yet it still carries a warm tenderness. I imagine a choir of despairing Jarvises harmonizing in unison. All of those voices narrow back down to one; innocent and pure, as the song comes to an unsuspected finish.
The whole song is exciting, like a jingle I haven’t heard since I was a kid. I can’t wait to hit every note and sing every word because the musicalness of it is unabashed. I feel no fear in this song. Jarvis wrote exactly what he wanted to. At a moment in music when everyone is trying to leave their pretensions behind, whether through switching to the noble genre of country music, or cutting out all metaphors in favour of a more conversational lyrical mode, there are few artists who I truly believe anymore. Yves Jarvis is one of them, alongside other real ones like Doechii, Good Morning, and Mannequin Pussy (who all came out with classics this year as well).
Finally, I want to talk briefly about the music video. It could be a tough song to make a video for, what with the abstract lyrics and unconventional structure, yet they (Dir. Derek Branscombe and DOP Harley Francis) managed to dream up a visual language that it looks like Jarvis might be using for his whole album. Percussive slider moves, fantastical POV shots, disorienting crash zooms — it’s a feast for the eyes! Not to mention the precise editing, color grading, and choreography. The sheer imagination and effort being put into this project not only inspire me, but give me hope for the future of putting out music for the love of music.
PACKS’s EP WOAH is out now on Fire Talk.
