Scissor Sisters - “Baby Come Home”
The consensus seems to be that Magic Hour is an uninspired outing for the Sisters. While I’m not feeling Night Work-level shivers, I’m certainly playing the album a lot more than some fairly recent “classics.” I guess this is a problem with “classics” - even when they have some clear mark of greatness, they might not always fit your mood. I haven’t wanted to listen to Radiohead in … probably two years?
As I get older, I find it more difficult to decide if it’s me or my mood that is making an aesthetic judgement. What if I like this music, but it’s only because of this mood? And what if this mood lasts the rest of my life? It’s like that depressing NY Times article about friendship in your thirties and forties: I’m not sure I can be friends with some songs for the rest of my life. (Would I even want to?)
But then, maybe it’s just the heat. I just want something fun, but not so syrupy as what’s splashed up and down the top 40. I want fun: light and gay and frothy. The humidity has chopped down my IQ. I can barely think. Let me have my joy without me worrying if it’s good for me.