A Pop Phenomenology Knee-Jerk Post: “Do I Wanna Know?”

Okay. So, Arctic Monkeys have a new album out. It’s called AM, and I’m only on the 3rd song. That is in part because I’m having a really hard time getting past the first track, “Do I Wanna Know?” I can’t get past it because I keep replaying it. It’s a hell of a way to start an album. I was deeply affected by High Fidelity (both the movie and the book), and there’s this great scene in the record store when Rob, Barry, Dick, and their friend are having a conversation in which they’re ranking their top-five album track 1/side 1’s. I think this song has to go on my list. It’s that good. As soon as I heard it, as soon as I felt it, I knew I had to write a post about it. This is my knee-jerk reaction post to the song. It has invaded me completely, and while I don’t necessarily need to free myself of it, I do need to share my feelings about it in the vain attempt to figure out exactly how it is I do feel about it.

Right out of the gate, the song feels ominous; it’s not even close to chipper. The beat is like clapping, and the guitar repeats the same few notes over and over. It’s a song about obsession and loss and wondering, and the melody of the song, which is not a melody in the traditional pop song sense of the word, is heavy and repetitive – just like obsession. The melody pulls at you; it’s the musical equivalent of that ponderous, helpless feeling you have when you’ve lost someone, but you’re so wrapped up in the idea of them being with you that you can’t purge them from your system. It’s only made worse when they’re always around; you’re always fighting muscle memory. The song is a fight against memory.

Despite the heaviness of the song, there’s nothing slow or boring about it. The song’s tempo is paired with lyrics that, as I gestured at in the previous paragraph, convey a feeling of utter resignation. He’s resigned himself to these feelings he has for the ‘you’ to which he sings. He’s regretful, nostalgic, mournful, addicted, and even though he’s sort of ashamed for feeling all of these things, he simply must express them just in case the ‘you’ he’s singing to feels the same way about him. Even when we’re just on the verge of walking away, the ‘what if?’ holds enormous sway.

So the combination of the weighty, sad music with lyrics that are so spot-on I can’t even think straight are what pretty much reach into my chest and make it so I can’t breathe properly. The song is so honest. It’s completely unpretentious. It is a confession. It’s the kind of confession that at times in my life I’ve needed and wanted to make, but I absolutely could not piece together. I imagine these lyrics are made up of the stuff you say just before you fall on your knees and beg. And don’t tell me you haven’t felt like begging at least once. Love robs us of all pride.

The line of the song that told me I had to write a post was this:

“Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep.”

Now, I know this is not an experience unique to me. Obviously, Alex Turner is tapping into some larger music-consciousness; I know there are people who exist who have never related a song to a person and listened to it over and over again in some strange attempt to will that person to love them, but I don’t think I really trust those people.  How can a person not have done so? Are they human? But this line. THIS LINE. It’s like Turner took every thought I ever had while I was in a state of pining for someone and put it in this song.

I could go line-by-line and explain why I think every damn word of this song is excellent, but I don’t think it would help; you just have to listen and see what it does for you. This song, speaking in a pop phenomenology sort of way, weighs on me. The chorus is especially brutal; it pushes on my chest, compresses it.  I nearly choke when I listen to this song because in the wake of the weight of it, I forget to breathe. It is an exquisite breathlessness, to be sure, and I love every second of it.

I have no doubt your experience of the song will differ from mine. But please, do experience it.