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Both lyrically and musically this is The Suburbs’ most morbid moment. We’re talking downright macabre theatrics here.
The cello-triplets and tremolo violins sound like something out of one of Hans Zimmer’s film scores while Butler’s lyrics - the “loneliest day of my life” as “last defender of the sprawl” - couldn’t possibly be more downbeat.
It feels like the beginning of the end, both in terms of The Suburbs’ relatively cryptic narrative ark and in its sense of looming dread for what is to come…