Infected By Everything Everything

Puppies, you need to read this and this

(Or at least skim them if you already know about basic memetics. Or just can’t be arsed reading a lot.)

Well, here’s my latest infection. It’s the song ‘MY KZ, UR BF’ by the band Everything Everything.

This time the infection set in over the course of the last month. I’d heard the song maybe twice on Radio One but it outrageously hasn’t been heavily playlisted so it didn’t quite catch.

Then I was doing DJing prep for Bzangy Groink and I downloaded it along with a load of other indietastic tunes. In fact, I made a new CDR for my car, consisting of this indieness.

But…

The EE song was second on the CDR. And the whole last week and a bit, I’ve never got past track two. Or back onto track one. All I’ve been listening to, going into town, out of town, to my parents’ house, randomly driving with the lights off in the evening, is this one song. Over and over and over. Track finishes, I skip back and start it again.

Hold on, I’m just going to start it on iTunes… Oh god…

Here are the lyrics:

Lucifer you’re landing, cross-hairs on the kitchen sink
Barb-wire in the bathroom, I can’t make new memories since

Flashbacks to the time, this shell-shocked apartment was the place
I met with your boy, it’s a mortal thing, yeah it’s a mortal thing
“Oh!” he looked at me funny and I, “Oh! Oh!” think our secret’s out and a
“Oh-ooh-oh!” I try to explain
but then munitions rain, and we’re the epicentre

It’s like I’m watching the A4 paper taking over the guillotine,
It’s like I’m watching the A4 paper taking over the guillotine

And I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend, cos he was looking at me like “whoa..!”
Yeah right before the kitchen was a dustbowl, and tossing me the keys and I can’t forget how
everything just coming through the windows, and half the street was under my nails
it’s like we sitting in the Faraday cage, when the lights all failed.

I fly through the walls, all pieces colliding and I
see Raymond apart, he’s a frowning now, wagging a finger at me
“Boy!” his knees bend the other way and, “Boy! Boy!” are you guys together honey?
“B..b..boy!” Oh but now I can’t find his torso, I guess you’re separated,

It’s like I’m watching the A4 paper taking over the guillotine,
(Monica I just wanna know…)
It’s like I’m watching the A4 paper taking over the guillotine

And I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend, cos he was looking at me like “whoa..!”
Yeah right before the kitchen was a dustbowl, and tossing me the keys and I can’t forget how
everything just coming through the windows, and half the street was under my nails
it’s like we sitting in the Faraday cage, when the lights all failed.

Lucifer you’re landing ([six cars the driveway oh] I do believe it will be business inside)
Cross-hairs on the kitchen sink (it’s a real spanner into my works I think I kicked the bucket)
Baby’s on the bull’s-eye (…do believe it will be business inside..)
I can’t make new memories since, …ries since, …ries since.

And I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend, cos he was looking at me like “whoa..!”
Yeah right before the kitchen was a dustbowl, and tossing me the keys and I can’t forget how
everything just coming through the windows, and half the street was under my nails
it’s like we sitting in the Faraday cage, when the lights all failed.

And now everybody gotta go hungry, and everybody cover up their mouths
And I haven’t seen the body count lately, but looking at your faces it must have been bad!
and if everybody answered their phone calls, but people say the army’s on fire
it’s like we sitting with our parachutes on, but the airport’s gone.

The music is fantastic, twingly and spingly, marimbary and hooting. But the lyrics are what grabbed me. The way EE veer from dense metaphors and elaborate similies to throwing in lines like “cos he was looking at me like “whoa!” is simply beautiful. In sociolinguistic terms, I love the way EE shift register. Thus:

my kz ur bf sociololinguistic register

It’s this playfulness combined with the ambiguity of the lyrics that drew me in, that infected me. I had to play it again and again. I had to look up the lyrics. I had to try and sing along, which is fucking difficult since EE seem to have phrasing that’s madder than XTC multiplied by McCarthy divided by Shooby Taylor. I’m getting there. I’ve got the chorus and intro/mid nailed but the verses are bastard hard.

Another infection vector is that the song reminds me of a mate and intrigue and spies and sodium lights spilling over flour-bombed kitchens. When I told her this, she was puzzled because the song doesn’t actually bear much resemblance to her reality. But in my mind, it fits perfectly, irrefutably! I do like the video I’ve stuck at the top of this post but I would like to have made the video I have in my head. Which is also mad since who gives a fuck what imagery I’ve got in my head?

Of course, I’ve bought the album (which is wonderful). I’ve also bought tickets to go and see them in a fortnight. I’m listening to this one song over and over, trying to get bored of it, hoping to get sick of it. I honestly want to listen to other music now but the bloody song won’t let me go. I don’t want to hear it, I need to hear it.

On Friday night, I went upstairs at Mosh, which I never do on Fridays and the lovely DJ there put it on for me. I danced to it, totally on my own on the dancefloor. It was 11.15 or so and people were wandering up, looking at the mentalist on the dancefloor and wondering what drugs I was on.

None. Just music.

That three minutes thirty-eight seconds was the musical highlight of that night. It was all downhill from there.

This afternoon, I was shopping with my mates Kell and Malc and when we sauntered into River Island, the song was on. Immediately, I had to sing along. I was walking past girls, singing along and I knew they were looking at me like I was a nutter. Which I am.

Music is, obviously, a big part of my life and probably an equally big part of my brain wiring and interaction, if anything I’ve read recently about neuroplasticity is accurate. All those webs are now owned by ‘MY KZ, UR BF.’ I want them back!

Really, I’m protesting falsely. I’m listening to it now and it’s like sweet, sweet audio crack. The sinuous bassline, the ’80s pad chords in the chorus, the offbeat drums. The bursts of distorted vocals and particularly the falsetto sex noises the singer makes.

I am so infected.

Tag. You’re it.