“We aren’t platinum selling artists yet, so a hot girl in a body bag will do.” – Lee Newell, lead singer of Lovelife, to MTV (2013)
Yes, you read that correctly.
Spotify introduced me to this wonderful synth-pop band under a week ago with this track. I instantly gravitated toward the deep electronic waves – a sumptuous blend of vocals reminiscent of Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” and a hauntingly tribal backbone. Taking the next step toward enjoying the song most fully, I called up its lyrics.
A type-2 composition: a break-up song. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet profound in itself.
The world’s love affair with celebrities has gotten out of hand. I’ll admit that I’m a part of this massive head-over-heels, obsessive group of individuals (ranging from 12 to mid-fifties and beyond) that craves a three-hour block on Tumblr (or Reddit, or Buzzfeed), to scroll through images, GIFs, Avengers fan fiction, and even interviews with all of my favorite celebrities. I swoon, I cry, and I get excited over the smallest things — from a change in haircut and/or color to the news of a pregnancy, or another interview with an actor who this woman has worked with several times before. But what, exactly, am I swooning over? Who she really is? What that actor actually thinks about his co-worker? What I can only imagine he or she feels about the film and his or her costars? So how does Spike Jonze’s Her comment on all of this?