I just love bands who are graceful and generous with their youth and vitality (etc: The Dodos & the Pains of Being Pure at Heart). But I love the Drums more than anyone else right now because they are a more complex version of the Beach Boys, but only slightly so. And also because they understand the cheap thrill that a little bit of irony can fetch.
The first line of the album beings abruptly so, “ You’re my best friend, but then you died….”. Whether it’s a metaphorical death or what-not, the tune is still way too chirpy to describe the end of anything. The Drums sing of frustration, disappointment and longing, but the tunes are always so over the top, so full of clapping, cheering, just simply so happy no matter what.
Take for example, the opening bars of Me and the Moon where the song begins with such angry stomping on the gym class floor. It’s hard, fast and violent, but the ultimate joy comes with the surprising message it brings, that if you’re angry and if you’re wanting, there’s no use sulking away at the corner of the room. What you should really do is to pull yourself and your heavy baggage to the centre and dance like you’re on fire.
“I thought my life would get easier, instead it’s getting harder, instead its getting harder.”, “I know… You’re trying to kill me…”, the album is full of precocious, memorable and youthful nuggets like this that its not hard to get carried away by the music. In “Let’s Go Surfing”, the effervescent Jonathan Pierce sings of not caring about nothin‘, but that’s the ultimate paradox of being a young person isn’t it? You say you don’t care, but you really do, enough to want to make poetry out of your emotions, enough to write songs about your ups and downs; you don’t really let go of your feelings, you let them bundle together like a tight fist and then you use them to do wonderful things (and sometimes horribly bad things like indulging in the Twilight Saga, bleck!).
That’s how great the music of the Drums really is; it makes you feel like the Sun is always shining behind your back, that you’re running bright and blurry like a happy hallucination. It makes you hold on to the belief that your life is a Book of Stories, and that this Book will have a happy ending. Or that It will all end in tears, but only beautifully so.