Can We Really Party Today?

Sometimes a song just hits home. You get the feeling you wrote it, as though it's an extension of yourself. I'm sure a clinical term would be obsession. (Some form of fanaticism? Compulsion? Complex phobia? Whatever, I have it.) Sports fans experience this quite a bit, and their families tolerate it. And so does mine. But that's the crutch of connecting with music on such a personal level. It feels like you own it. That's why when bands become hugely popular, we fanatics tend to move on: we don't own these bands anymore, they've become public property. I've cut loose so many bands this way over the years: R.E.M., The Smiths, The Cure, Coldplay, Arcade Fire, M83, LCD Soundsystem, and on and on. Everyone is touched by music, I'm not special, I know that, but I am obsessed.

When I first heard Jonathan Wilson's "Can We Really Party Today?," I was floored. The song confirms and feeds my habit. The way that the intro is so light and sunny, an acoustic guitar pushes bright tones and good vibes, his voice whispers, "Follow me down to the divine lake, with the canopy's overhead, lavender pink and dry." But just when you're settling into that lovely mood, Mr. Wilson knocks you out with a complete shift in atmosphere. The tempo, the spirit, the bounce and lightness of the track are hijacked by a dark cloud in the shape of a heavy, plodding strum that punches you in the gut. "Can we really party today? With all that's goin' on?" The lyrics are a wake-up call, a sobering reminder, like coming down off a trip.

Then, just as quickly, Wilson shuffles back to the sweetness and light of the intro. At first, the push and pull of two songs in one is a bit disturbing, as if the record is skipping or the mp3 is corrupted. But soon you're hooked on discordant tension. When the song finally settles, it lands on the dark side, but that's okay, because we're soon rescued by the sound of a cello and piano dripping into the mix as the arrangement slowly coalesces into shape. As the full band comes in, from here it's all coastline and horizon. I can hear the sound of seagulls off in the distance, and I can feel the warm breeze of the Santa Ana winds. I read somewhere that this song is Wilson's first attempt at being political, which I think was his way of explaining the heavy, somber mood. How can it not be political with a title like "Can We Really Party Today?" It's a proper statement, on an album full of breathtaking beauty. I got that instantly, and felt that connection, I'm still trying to cope with it. I'll be here until the end, until I feel like all 6 minutes and 41 seconds of the song has revealed itself to me. I'm not special, I know that, but I'm just obsessed.