Art Brut Vs. Satan

I find this record comforting.  It takes the edge off of life like Bob Marley used to, back a few years ago when I didn’t have any real responsibilities to wig-out about.  Unfortunately, “Don’t worry about a thing ’cause everything’s gonna be alright,” just doesn’t cut the cheese anymore.

Those sorts of sentiments did wonders back when the semester would screech to a halt regardless of the marks on my final exams.  Or back when a job was something you found in the newspaper, applied for, and started the same day after answering “YES” to the question: “Do you have a valid driver’s license and reliable transportation.”  Yeah, everything used be alright when any day you could walk away.

I’ll still take a stroll with those Three Little Birds, but life is no longer such a beach.  Responsibilities and consequences are now part of what it means to get out of bed in the morning.  The boys in Art Brut are catching on to this.  Late 20’s and holding on for dear life, Art Brut is smart enough to know that modern life is cracked, but haven’t figured out the fix.  It’s nice to pop on the headphones and know that I’m not alone.

I guess it really comes down to rolling back the clock just a few years.  When I’m 44, I’m sure there will be plenty of 30-something sentiments that tug nostalgically at my heart strings.  I don’t know what they might be (Joan Baez and Carole King are frighteningly coming to mind) but I’ll find out when I get there.

But the tunes of Art Brut — the simple yet spot-on guitars, the lyrics of lament, the self-haranguing humor, the Cure cover — whip me back to a romanticized past.  It’s a little cathartic break until duty calls.  Personal demons purged, I’ll take Art Brut FTW.

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