Here’s another bit of yummy pop euphoria from the Chills, off their classic album, Submarine Bells. The song really captures my restless, excited mood at the moment. The Chills make music for those of us who have faith in the healing power of a perfect pop song, faith in the things that make us feel good, that feel so right even as they exist in the long and frightening shadows cast by the unknown. There are moments in life when you have to say fuck it and wade through the danger, armed with nothing other than your belief in love, friendship and redemption, all of which find combined expression in the heavenly pop hit. In Martin Phillips’ hands, pop becomes synonymous with transcendence. I’m the most atheistic, material-world-oriented, skeptical, non-spiritual person I know, yet pop imbues me with a belief in a kind of secular metaphysics. It’s a belief system that allows me to let my guard down, just a little, to be brave, trust my instincts, and have faith in the existence of a place where love and music become one. The love-music nexus will free you. I believe this. I have to believe it because if I don’t I’m left with nothing. I know it all sounds like gobbledygook, but I don’t care. I believe in the love-music nexus. It’s a heavenly pop hit, for those that still want it…
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