Song of the Summer 2008: Osh Kosh rock

My vote is a deadlock tie.



"Out There on the Ice"
Cut Copy
Allow me to break it down: perhaps you're in da proverbial club, lights jabbing in your eyes from indiscernible sources, you're searching the thronging crowd for that special someone. Drugs and/or alcohol may be inhibiting or enhancing your search, and they're certainly fueling your paranoia: has she left without me? Am I too late? Does she know I actually care? Save me, blog-house banger!


"Kim and Jessie"
M83

Or, perhaps, you're in a sunny field with your friends and your new crush. You're all around the vicinity of sixteen, or something nearly as absolving. It's the middle of summer; school is as far gone as it is approaching. Your friends are giggling and whispering about the two of you, but you don't care. The light is so hazy through the trees that you can't see past her face. Time is standing still and junk. Or at least, it was, in retrospect. Remind me, shoegaze throwback!

Never mind, maybe you're just in American Apparel, desperately searching for the outfit that will bring back all the hotness of a past decade; the fuzzy celluloid Hughes-ian memories that you think you ought to have, despite being approximately four years old at the time. Right now, in the fleeting-yet-responsible part of our youth, we can elect to bliss out to the music of the adolescence we yearned for, crib-side in our Osh Koshes.

Kitsch notwithstanding, both tracks have definite bliss-moments, which I submit as a necessary condition for flagship summer songs. "Out There on the Ice" is at 3:29--acid synth gives way to staccato key pecks and a vocal line so earnestly overwrought that all misgivings over artifice and ambiance must be forgiven. 'Cause it's genre pop, and it's a tasty treat, if ephemeral. But so is the pacific northwestern summer. With similar consequences, "Kim and Jessie" peaks out at 4:03--bridge built, shimmering chorus revisited, Mr. Gonzales breaks out and dusts off a guitar line so steeped in the Reagan era that the listener must summarily remove their headphones and proceed to detention at Shermer High School. Every time this song is played out loud, Molly Ringwald loses a wrinkle.

Here's to making it through today by making up yesterday, one summer song at a time.