When St Peter finally calls them all in out of his book, I’m sure he’s got to have a special section of heaven roped off for pop-punk acts doing love songs. There’s something inherently great about the moments when a bunch of snot-nosed three chorders stop with the dumb pop culture references and dick gags for long enough to crack out the acoustic guitar and drop it on you on some kinda Petrarch tip. That’s why I’m mourning Blink 182’s departure at the moment: the effort our man puts into “I Miss You”, despite the fact that he can’t sing at all, is stunning. You can hear every single vein in his body straining itself just so he can do his dumb little song in anything approaching an acceptable register… it’s simultaneously heartbreaking and heart-warming. Like when you see a really ugly couple together who are obviously in love.
Anyway, yes, secrets, and having secrets. And discovering them. And revealing them, for that matter. A guy once threatened to punch me for giving him the answer to one of the clues in his Times cryptic crossword. And not in a jovial “D’oh, you crazy kids!” kind of way. In an actual “I am about to cause you severe cranial trauama” way. People hate having secrets revealed for them. They like to think that they’re intelligent just because the saw the punchline from a few seconds earlier, or that they named the murderer before Miss Marple did, or whatever. They fail to understand that the whole pretence of it was that the writer wanted you to work it before the main character did, that’s how he builds up your confidence, deux ex machina is for failures, you’re a winner. “Deep Deep Down” has a hidden meaning that I, as the 15 year old I was when I first heard the song, didn’t get. I just assumed it was a song of failed love, the sort of songs that soundtrack your being when you’re at that age. Of course, now I’m 22 years old, and can successfully hold a conversation with a member of the opposite sex without drooling, I understand that it’s just a novelty song about killing your girlfriend, but by then it doesn’t really matter. It’s your song. Enjoy.
ILM's 2005 collaborative mix project hoonja-doonja!