All I know is that this song is catchy as f@#$%. Before this track I had never actually listened to the Arctic Monkeys, but this one’s a real gem and I can’t get it out of my head.
“Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat. Until I fall asleep”
The tune is almost too sticky; it’s got a personality of its own. After one listen I found it continuously looping in my brain, like a memory stuck on repeat. It brings back the sort of bittersweet nostalgia that hurts so good. Is there a cure for being a hopeless romantic? An insatiable tendency to romanticize the past– constantly reconstructing what ‘was’ and what ‘could have been’ may not be very conducive towards the attempt to live in the present. When listening to these lyrics it is only inevitable that remnants of the past resurface…“Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the type that sticks around like something in your teeth?”
This song is a metaphor for the general stickiness; how we encounter karmic attachment with that one other soul that makes us want to crawl back… There’s probably a decent reason why we had to let this person go, but as Blaise Pascal once said, “the heart has reasons of which reason knows nothing.” It makes you wonder why there certain people seem to be stickier than others.
“Maybe I’m too busy busy being yours to fall for somebody new.”
Objectivity holds no place in the heart; even if theoretically you may be better off dating someone else, you find your mind drifting back to thoughts of the one who made your heart bleed. Sometimes you just have to let the rationalizations melt away, trust in the universe and go with your instinct… primal magnetism trumps all, y’all.“So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart’s still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts. Simmer down and pucker up.”
To love, sometimes you must renounce the comfort zone. It means turning your back on a life of mediocrity; forsaking a numb existence of zombitude and taking the risks necessary to pursue what feels real.
After all, it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that *zing*.