It's important to build part of your first single around a falsehood, an adolescent insult. Harriet and slamming first single, "I Slept With All Your Mothers" is neither as graphic nor as illicit as the title and central lyric let on. The song pitches either a tragic brand of anti-heroism ("I'm sorry I let the gas run out") or the weirdest love song in history ("I slept with all your mothers/ I slept in bed with you") or both. Presupposing the notion of universal maternal sexualization is lyrical, and it certainly is, the listener assumes a sort of complicity, a voyeurism, on these shared asides between broken lovers. Even the hollow barbs about financial considerations, "I love money", "I want your money, you know I do," ring as empty and bitterly sarcastic as the title lyric, something thrown backwards with retributive flair, these the last lashes of a terrible collision. But, "I Slept With All Your Mothers" has a secret even more precious than these obvious embellishments. The final 30 seconds let the pianos pound, the guitars rip and the strings surge, all of us screaming now, "I gave myself to you." This part feels good and true and everything else.
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