We don't need reason and we don't need logic.

A Brief Playlist.

Camera Obscura, “Let’s Get Out of This Country”
Apparently, if you really love someone, or if you really want to, the best thing to do is leave town with them. Lies! This song acknowledges how momentary, but how satisfying that feeling can be. Wanting to get away makes a person pine for any silly ideal. Lyrically, the song reflects this (“We’ll find a cathedral city/ You’ll be handsome/ I’ll be pretty”) and its loose grasp on humdrum reality. But it’s a good reminder that the world is full of he same unfulfilled desires, the same questionable push and pull. In the album’s first track, the same voice sings “I’m ready to be heartbroken/ ‘cause I can’t see further than my own nose at the moment”. That illogical carpe diem sentiment strums sarcastically, but also with real meaning, through the whole record, but most beautifully in this song.

Kathleen Edwards, “In State”
On the other side of the scale of loving someone or something is the moment when you give it up, and store it in your mind-- though apparently, if it's convenient the state prison will work just fine. The speaker in Kathleen Edward’s ballad is about to turn in her criminal boyfriend (“You talk sweet ‘til the going gets tough/ The last job you pulled was never big enough”), but instead of suggesting they escape together, this song is a quick thump into the real world. She still loves him, but the refrain, “maybe twenty years in state’ll change your mind”, suggests that part of her betrayal is a desire to keep him as hers. Seeing people falling away is hard, and sometimes the ideal you keep may be locked away—or if you can, make that the actual person. The instrumentation on this song is perfect for summer and my mini-van (I’m lame, really), driving with the windows down and singing along.

The Pastels, “Speeding Motorcycle”
This is a Daniel Johnston cover, and I know those are kind of cliché, but I like the way Stephen Pastel opens this song, voice sort of shaky and wobbling. When the whining gives into a brilliant pop song (are those violins? Damn!) and the whole thing pulses out this charming mantra about loving motorcycles but also loving life, one can’t help but be charmed. Everyone needs to remember that “We don’t have to break our necks just to get our kicks”, and there’s real emotion coming through the vocals in this song.

Tugboat, “Love Goes Home to Paris in the Spring”
A random Australian somewhat twee band doing a lovely cover of a Magnetic Fields song: well, duh. Instead of Stephin Merrit’s growling twang, this song is charming and poppy. The harmonies melt prettily over the words and the light guitars and synth instrumentation. “I’ve had enough/ You never give me anything/ Don’t you know love goes home to Paris in the spring?” is one of the most staunch and appropriate break-up lines I can think of. This song is simple (I just quoted about a third of its lyrics), but lovely and empowering.

Sonic Youth, “Incinerate”
Man, do I love this newly reinvented catchy, accessible Sonic Youth. This song is not so lyrically smart: it’s mostly about a guy exploding his girlfriend’s heart and getting caught by the fire department. Whoops. It also rhymes “nice” with “ice”. But this is all forgiven when one hears the bass line and guitar solo, Moore’s low vocals. The song builds up to a bright, low-burning finish and I’m left wondering why I didn’t try to see Sonic Youth again. Because they’re middle-aged and creepy, that’s why. But they’re clearly still writing good songs.