One listen. A bit tough this one, but it also felt like it went by really quickly. I don’t think I captured the song as well as I could have. It’s an intense, unnerving bit of music, but describing it as such undersells it. Oh well.

Magic Dirt’s “Babycakes you Always Freeze me up” is from Young and Full of the Devil.

I hope you enjoy.

—

From silence a sound grows and crackles. It moves and wavers and pulses, and it moves in familiar, yet strange ways. As it continues its motion, other sounds come into play. The sounds move slow. They move eerily. Quiet, lurking almost. Slowly forming, slowly gaining mass.

A frame starts forming in the noise and sounds are attracted to it. They draw closer and closer, and eventually they take the last step and everything is there. Everything is roaring and raging, cutting through, grinding… everything is heavy and full and noisy. A thick, heaving fug engulfs everything. It fills the space and crashes and smothers, and eventually relents a little.

The sounds still drive forward as parts stretch and contort, and interweave in and out, and something spirals out and distorts, and eventually that mass takes over once more.

There’s thrust and pull and howls and screams, and it seems within it all there’s a romance smothered by darkness; by dread and menace and terror, and maybe there’s something that’s familiar and welcoming, too. Maybe something inevitable as the mass seems suspended, holding as it expands and crashes and engulfs everything. The noise, desperate, unrelenting… and eventually it lifts and the percussion seems to slow and the other instruments drag on. The only lyric is uttered: “You always freeze me up”, and then all that remains is that initial sound disappearing into silence, and the song ends.