| 0:26-0:34 - Enter the
third riff, like a great big two-chord Brill Building progression,
and the weird noise, which reoccurs several times on the album: it
could be a balsawood airplane’s wing stuck in an electric fan,
or somebody blowing bubbles into a milkshake with a fat-ass straw;
it’s more rhythmic than that, but no less odd 0:35-0:42 The toy-airplane noise begins to sound like a xylophone being played at a cave entrance with the recording microphone set up in the murky depths of the cave itself, while a fourth riff, a suave-detectives-creeping-down-the-hall sort of thing, plays through twice, never to be heard from again 0:43-0:50 The noise heats up -- maybe it’s a few xylophones layered on top of each other; maybe it’s some guy smoking opium through a really huge hookah -- while another guitar bit snakes in, playing its toy-store doom-riff exactly once while a trebly counterpoint skits around in the high end 0:51-:0:54 The final chord of the last progression is held and the song seems to be stopping. The weird popcorn-popping-underwater sound continues. A bass, or the lower strings on an electric guitar without much or any distortion, plays a few notes which are introductory to 0:55-1:12 one of the loveliest descending figures I’ve heard since the last time I listened closely to the bass on Procul Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” which is to say, a long time. These seventeen seconds, which I wish I believed were an explicit reference to an early Cure album even though I’m sure they’re not, are so very pretty that it’s startling: the distance from the track’s opening spazz-out to here hasn’t been too long, but the band has effortless gone from tooth-grind to deep lull in no time at all |
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