Endless Loop: Wings

haertsHave you ever had one of those songs that gets stuck in your head for days…weeks…years? Sure you have. These are the songs that always make the cut. The songs on repeat. We all have them. I have a ton. Welcome back to Endless Loop.

“Wings” by HAERTS

If my high school days could be condensed into a two-hour John Hughes movie, then surely, SURELY the closing jam playing over my fade to black, either with defiant fist held high overhead or with my teenage object of desire held in my arms, would have to be the lush and soaring sweetness of “Wings” by Brooklyn’s HAERTS. The song is only a couple of years old, originally appearing on the band’s Hemiplegia EP, but it feels like it has been with me for decades. It feels like it could have scored any number of bittersweet moments from my adolescence, regardless of the fact that it sounds nothing like anything I would have listened to at the time.

“Wings” rests its laurels comfortably in the streams of airy 80’s synth-pop. My sonic preferences back then would be arguably messier, more aggressive, or morose even. But the song still feels like it would suit that time perfectly. It’s big, and sweeping, and honest, and there’s an ever-present nostalgic pull throughout those pop-fueled five minutes. Like it’s always been there. Like I remember it from a moment that never actually happened. Perhaps there’s just an instant timelessness to it.

And honestly, that’s just wonderful.

For any pop tune, as nostalgia-tinged as it may be, as owing to decades old sounds and styles as it is, there is something so transcendent about music that can make you feel like a kid again. There is something so delightful about music that can take you back to long lost days without ever having been there to begin with. It yearns. It ebbs. It flows. It bleeds. And ultimately, that’s what it’s all about. Sometimes those silly little love songs can feel like something much more.

Excuse me as I walk away in still frame.

 

Thomas H Williams

Thomas H Williams

From a bunker somewhere in Central Texas, Thomas H. Williams spends most of his time with his wife, his two sons, and his increasingly neurotic dog. He listens to a lot of music, drinks a lot of excellent beers, and gets out from time to time. For even more shenanigans, visit heavenisanincubator.blogspot.com.

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