Talk about serendipity. While frying up some eggs the other day, numb to everything except the sizzling in the cast-iron pan over a blue gas flame, Head of Femur’s ‘Where’s the Fire’ came on at random on my iTunes and put me in a wildly good mood. It had been a tough week at work in the salt mines, and this welcome boost of seratonin was just what I needed to make it to the weekend.
Everything about this song works. The vintage organs, percussive piano melodies, and meandering bassline are all so busy, yet never detract from each other. Layer upon layer of embellishments are gradually added to the mix until the wall of sound reaches its critical mass; the hugeness of which plays like the aural equivalent of Dr. Seuss re-imagining the Sistine Chapel (if that makes any sense). For my money, the twin cherries on top of this masterpiece are the horns. A fanfare for trumpet and saxophone, spiraling upward and around each other like double-helix strands of DNA provide the song’s most memorable moments.
Head of Femur – Where’s The Fire