is there much to do left?
screaming woke us up
we won, but did we? sleepy yawns throughout the grey
missed the storm — next one comes quite soon
the feeling outrageous, the taste, ostentatious
takes me back to those thatched roofs
Great, deep, sonorous bass opens the tune, and clicking soon crawls in alongside. Before we know it, long, vibrant vocals moan. A strangely mechanical voice, with echoing reverb, asks us what we would do if the plastic all melted. There’s a pervading dissonance, and the bouncy, robotic bass accentuates it. The clear, light percussion contrasts the deep bass.
The sudden injection of the chorus – a single line asking the titular question – soon gives way to another verse; the reverb builds, slightly, and the portent of decay in the lyrics builds alongside.
Then, chaos. The bass picks up a 2/4 beat (?) and someone screams. We hear the mangled recollections of a thousand hippies with thousand-yard stares: “I think I’m gonna die,” revolving on a Leslie speaker. The guitar is angular and dissonant, long, sharp tones needling us. Who are the brain police suddenly interjects again, and before we can begin to answer the question, the moaning continues, and we’re back again at the start.
“What would you do if the people you knew / were the plastic that melted and the chromium too?”
Thumping percussion and a babbling kazoo are our only answer. The bass modulates and wobbles as the manic sounds throb and fade, throb and fade.