Slam Donahue :: "Bug In The Sun"

The good times always run out, the fun always ends. The universe does its readjustment work like an absent-minded-but-now-very-angry parent returning home to find you on the garage roof drinking light beer. Get down from there. A girl you hung around with who was too cool, the stupidly easy summer job you had, your heater betting on football that winter, they each regressed to the mean. The universe isn't super attentive, but it also doesn't miss. One minute you're buying the home of your dreams, the next Lehman Brothers is taking on water and a global financial crisis is underway. Your mortgage broke the world. One decade you're an undefeated superpower, the next you've got too much debt in China and a foreign policy that would make Ruyard Kipling blush. Coming screaming from an imagined boombox, Brooklyn's Slam Donahue build "Bug In The Sun" as an ode the front side of this carefree living with a brief sideways glance for everything contained in this paragraph. A Brooklyn band with slamming guitars and hooks that catch like Burmese tiger pits, they try their best to paper over what anyone who has lived in New York City has felt: This can't possibly last. "We made some bad decisions, but everything always ends up fine," they wax before asking, "And I wonder if we get another shot?" The implication is what they already know, the last lyrics, "What's done is done is done."