I’m having a little trouble settling my brain tonight. This song doesn’t help much.
It’s a confounding tune, all swirling organ and hard-edged guitar. The lyrics are cryptic: It’s probably about a romantic relationship, but there is no other context to ground you. “I know she’s a tracker” is not exactly a clear statement about anything. It’s a song about disappearances and reappearances (which is sort of fitting, since I’m still absorbing last night’s episode of Doctor Who). It’s a song about nothing and everything. A mystery.
I like mysteries, even the unsolved ones. In some ways, an unsolved mystery is better. I don’t really want to know what actually crashed at Roswell, or who Jack the Ripper really was, or where Jimmy Hoffa is buried. Part of the fascination with these cases is the lack of a clear answer. You can project any ending you want on an unsolved mystery. In my universe, D.B. Cooper got away with the money. Butch and Sundance made it out of Bolivia and came back to the U.S. My favorite part of Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Trilogy is when it’s explained that 42 is the answer to the question, but that you can’t know both the answer and the question at the same time because then everything will be destroyed and replaced with something completely different, if it hasn’t happened already. Got that? Good.
This is what happens inside my head some days. I’d apologize, but I’m not sure if I’m sorry or not. It’s hard to settle on anything.