Yes, yes, I thought I was going to get things done last night, cleaning and working on the webpage and whatnot, but Rufus had something to say about it. Rufus and his Want, half pop masterpiece half operetta, seducing me to sleep and then haunting my dreams so that I was singing along to songs i had never heard before when I awoke.
I usually think sex is in the rhythm of a song – I am incredulous as the “best to make love to” lists that are troughs of mid-tempo R&B. If I was making a soundtrack for sex it would be all about rhythm – Death Cab “Company Calls Epilogue,” Q-Tip “Vivrant Thing,” Pavement “Stereo” – songs that just have that something that seems to connect to your hips.
My point being (in that obtuse point-being way where I know exactly what I mean and you probably still haven’t the slightest idea) that Rufus’s entire aesthetic connects with my hips, and every other part of my body. His songs are sexy from the beat to the vocal to the scraping of the bow across the strings on “Angus Dei.” Even songs that I don’t like, songs that aren’t catchy in the least, songs I don’t think are entirely clever, appeal to me down to the root.
Gah, why do I even try to speak before nine?
