“It’ll never be the same, I can tell, It’s in your eyes”

O how to address distance, my brothers? That creeping-ivy distance from nowhere ensnarling a bond you thought infinite… through the well-dressed medium of dream-ridden indie pop, of course; how else? With the help of highly trained producer monkeys boasting such accolades to their names as U2 David Bowie Bob Dylan… surely they know how to communicate emotional distance? Otherwise my life has been a mildly displeasing lie, though I digress; this mighty track clamped tight yet smooth, like trying to describe a chocolate mousse without resorting to seductive advertising techniques; like a reverberating snare causing so much personal distress because of course I can relate to the song’s themes… Choose life, choose distance, choose an emotional stalemate with someone you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with…definitely choose placing this godawful set of circumstances in Museum Underground Railway Station… as your lover becomes a mere artefact to be observed, as you eye each other like confused primates, as what was once a fluid motion of love and life transforms into stale artifice propped up by everything you thought you knew… a wonderful initiation into the sour universe of crumbling relationships.

“Where do you go, What makes you feel like home, when you leave it all behind?”

If you know it’s the last time you want to touch everything, let everything touch you; drink it all in like a greedy piglet so you’ll never forget it, but how are you meant to do that if you actually want to be there as well? Then into that sickening spiral of regret when you’re dangling out of a bottle of Argentinian Malbec trying your utmost to erase it all. It can be quite difficult to occupy a space. Now I think this track likens more to how a woman can swallow your soul, chew it up without having the decency to spit it out so I could have it back… maybe try and repair it…  H&M models wandering around breaking everyone’s hearts… O yet it is so transient, O yes I feel it all bouncing from wall to god-blessed wall. Perhaps sit back and let this sad man revisit his poorly reconstructed memories; where snaredrums reverberate perfect and mingle with pulsing basslines, floating synthesizers, ethereal vocals piercing the air…

“You could’ve been the mirror,Showing me the dream sleeping in my mind”

Oh christ no-one knows what they want, and it’s so convenient to rely on someone else to show you yourself, warts and all… and when it all falls apart who’ll be there? With some foresight, a meticulously constructed playlist full of funereal break-up tracks… with the right selection you’ll soon be writing off every negative experience to ‘Character Development’ and smiling at strangers in the street.

To clarify, The Station is deliciously crafted, both darkly sentimental and bizarrely uplifting, plus it’s difficult not to fall in love with Karine Hettel, or project all your insecurities onto her; either way click here to watch / listen.

Words Brad Ford.