I’ve been obsessed with The 1975’s 2016 single, “The Sound,” over the last few days.
There’s something about the song’s lyrics and underlying beat that’s connecting at a deep and fundamental layer of my existence.
Perhaps it’s the unapologetic poppiness of the song, which speaks to the basicness integral to my personality.
Perhaps it’s the self-centered, ineffably narcisstic personalities referenced in Matty Healy’s lyrics (“It’s not about reciprocation it’s just all about me / A sycophantic, prophetic, Socratic junkie wannabe“) that reflect the flawed parts of me I’ve decided to try to live with.
Or maybe it’s just because the song talks about something that I’m going through in my own life (“You’re so conceited, I said “I love you” / What does it matter if I lie to you? / I don’t regret it but I’m glad that we’re through / So don’t you tell me that you just don’t get it / ‘Cause I know you do“).
That’s something I’d rather not think about.
Hey Siri, play “The Sound” on repeat.