But yeah, enough of that, what I was saying was that this song is beautiful. Very very pretty. I've just been reminded of some sad news and this song kinda suited that terribly perfectly. Not perfectly terribly. That's something else entirely: something that this song definitely ain't. It's really very evocative and full of slow waves of energy that pulse out like pure feeling.
But it's not intense. It's not in your face. It has its mood (excuse the pun) and the five-member band from Atlanta build on this mood, creating sweeping swathes of sound that are as lethargic as they are poignant. It's a hot breeze that seems to stumble over blades of grass and trees to get to you rather than blast through its obstacles.
It's a careful, almost mournful, tune with an interesting groove given to it by a stop-start rhythm on the drums - they go half-speed, double-speed, and the bass plays continually to the later, almost waiting for it to catch up. Nice effect. It's like one minute you're up and positive, taking things in your stride; the next, you're down-in-the-dumps, quite ready to pack it all in and curl up in a ball somewhere. Maybe that's just me. But they've captured it well in any case.
The frequent solo surf-guitar stylings in their lo-fi light-distortion cast mellow lines of sound over the wash of echoing 80s drums and other instruments. The vocals are plaintive and earnest, suiting very well a song with a title of 'Pathos Y Lagrimas' ('lagrimas' is tears in Spanish, guys). There's a distinctly dreamy feel about the type of lo-fi, delicate 80s indie kinda music that this band plays, a wonderfully crafted sound that's as chilled as it is emotive. An eerily heartwarming-yet-lacrimose offering. And, as I said, beautiful, byu-di-full.