Am I the only one who feels like music reviewers never give it to you straight? Probably something to do with the abstraction essential to the art form. In hopes of advancing this branch of criticism, here’s the most literal description possible of each song on Crystal Castles’ third self-titled album, out this month.
“Plague”: A remix of that alarm going off throughout the last act of Alien.
“Kerosene”: Teletubbies played backwards.
“Wrath of God”: A teen Goth being baptized in olive oil for some reason.
“Affection”: Future hip-hop sample.
“Pale Flesh”: Cave-dwelling fish that communicate in electrical impulses.
“Sad Eyes”: Borderline ’80s disco.
“Insulin”: Anything but recorded music.
“Transgender”: Roll call at Illuminati meeting.
“Violent Youth”: A steady stream of illegible infographics.
“Telepath”: This band called, um, Crystal Castles. Heard of them?
“Mercenary”: Cool older kid blowing pot smoke rings.
“Child I Will Hurt You”: What robots listen to while getting a massage.
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