The Feelies :: Look At Me

50 years ago a different Feelies, predating the Jersey bred post-punk demigods by seven years, approached perfection for three minutes and thirty seconds. The opening bass riff is a misdirection, ceding to a sonic and lyrical landscape that’s both bucolic and post-apocalyptic. When everything drops, right at a minute-thirty-five, we’re suddenly on the musical equivalent of a moving walkway - sped and slowed simultaneously. Let’s ignore the song’s forgettable coda - when you’ve tapped the motherlode, you’ll eventually only strike gangue. words /

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