There is a wanton, self-serving, entitled, perverse, jealous, arrogant, paranoid, throbbing horror at the middle of so many of us.
I had not heard music for it, until I heard this song.
This sarcastic spasm of a song for that part of humanity which views altruism with the deepest suspicion. That pegs the kind, with curled lip, as martyrs. The modest, weak.
This song, that pitches about in awkward, whinging, nauseous guitar squall, terrifying blasts of weaponised fuzz-tone, the battle of super-ego, ego, and id.
This song, that ebbs into plangent gorgeousness, a warm, gooey centre that feels, if not like camaraderie, then companionship at least.
This song, with its heady tumbles of disquiet, of imagery for a porn-rotted people that have grown accustomed to 8,460,000,000 results in 0.22 seconds.
This song.
This song.