High Speed Train
July 5, 2007
I only seem to enjoy “High Speed Train” under certain conditions: The weather must be overcast, and maybe a bit too humid. I need to feel a bit bored and lethargic. And this is key: I need to be stuck in a mood that falls halfway between blankness and melancholy. If all of those factors come together, then it feels just right — the sluggish beat, the unashamed neediness, the horrible feeling that Michael Stipe is smothering his love with his sense of romance. That said, I’m not at all fond of Peter Buck’s faux-Latin guitar solo. It always feels tacked on and icky, like someone touching you in an awkward place on your body out of nowhere.