“Live, you forget that Montreal singer-songwriter Devon Welsh has a bandmate, producer Matthew Otto, just as you forget you’re surrounded by other people in the room, and that he’s not just reading to you from his diary. Welsh sings serious songs that are sweet but painful, universal but highly specific, and “Bugs Don’t Buzz” exemplifies his approach. The song, featuring Welsh over basic piano notes, is directed at a person he can imagine dying with in “slimy wet darkness,” as he whispers thoughts like: “Bugs don’t buzz when their time approaches/ We’ll be just like the roaches, my love.” When death does approach, we all want a few more minutes, and the end can be horrible, loud, and messy. Welsh knows this, it seems, and he shifts the opening notion that “the cheesiest songs all end with a smile/ this won’t end with a smile” to “the happiest songs all end with a smile/ this might end with a smile.” While death is inevitable, finding someone to wait it out with you isn’t; that he has someone in mind makes “Bugs Don’t Buzz” deeply optimistic.”—Brandon Stosuy, about Majical Cloudz’s Bug Don’t Buzz
Por dez anos, ele foi absolutamente fiel. Não transou, não beijou nem flertou com nenhuma outra mulher. Nos últimos meses, a retidão começou a pesar em seus ombros. Anda por aí olhando bundas com a voracidade de um remador das galés, deu pra implicar com pequenos atrasos da esposa e pra discordar de seus comentários durante o jornal.
Já ela, nesses dez anos, não foi absolutamente fiel. Transou com um colega de trabalho e com um ex-namorado de adolescência, que encontrou por acaso em Salvador. Nada sério, só desejo: ela tem certeza absoluta de estar ao lado do homem que ama e jamais cogitou trocá-lo por alguém.
Agora, ele chega na sala, senta ao lado dela, olha pra parede e diz que precisam conversar.
La da da da ta I’m gonna bury you in the ground La da da da ta I’m gonna bury you in my sound I’m gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face I’m gonna…
Sorry I don’t treat you like a goddess, Is that what you want me to do? Sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect, Like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I’m not made of sugar, Am I not sweet enough for you? Is that why you always avoid me? That must be such an inconvenience to you. Well, I’m just your problem. I’m just your problem. It’s like I’m not even a person, am I? I’m just your problem. Well, I shouldn’t have to justify what I do. I shouldn’t have to prove anything to you. I’m sorry that I exist, I forget what landed me on your black list. But I shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you. So, why do I want to? Why do I want to? To… bury you in the ground… and drink the blood from your… UGH!