"Number One Party Anthem" is a song that, by title, doesn't sound like an introspective nightmare. But once you delve into its smooth, slow-burning melody you'll realize that it's not the track you expected.
The Arctic Monkeys are a band I usually listen to while I'm getting ready to go out and get drunk. Not trying to sugar coat anything here. There are certain types of bands, certain albums that prepare us for an incoming storm of missed calls and connections, text messages that only exist between the hours of midnight and 3A.M.
The perfect listening session includes a cheap beer, my makeup stash, a curling iron and a highly lit bathroom mirror. I blast their songs while putting on my game face, and convincing myself that tonight will be different. Tonight I'll meet someone I can stand. Tonight will be fun.
"Sunglasses indoors, par for the course."
It's that kind of aesthetic thing that gets me interested in someone. Slinking around bars, looking for someone compelling enough to catch your eye. It's a dangerous game. Things move quickly when you're trying to forget about your past relationships and start new ones. Thinking, all the time, about what kind of person you've become and what kind of person you don't want to be anymore.
It's these kinds of songs that make the perfect companion for a night at home, wine glass in hand, contemplating why we don't want to fall in love, or why we do, why we're lonely, or why we enjoy the isolation.
"Come on, before the moment's gone."
You can almost see it, yourself in the corner of some crowded room, all twenty and thirty-somethings, sloshing around, looking at one another with judgmental eyes. Older people trying to pray on the young with free drinks and fresh eyes. Nothing is sacred in these places. They said it changes when the sun goes down, and they were right.
It's interesting, because in theory clubs and pubs seem like great places full of opportunity...but there's a distinct emptiness too. Something indescribable, desperate, not fit for daylight.