Well apparently I'm not done talking about Third Eye Blind so let's keep at it!
Third Eye Blind, right?! Are they still together?! Who knew!!!!
I teach high school. I took a day off work to go to the show, and when I got back, my students were all curious about where I'd been. I like to share my media interests with....well, everyone, including the teenagers who populate my work day (well, those interests that are adolescent-appropriate, anyway). I particularly like going to shows and then reporting inappropriate behaviour back to them: "Guys, when you're at a music concert, DON'T TALK DURING THE ENTIRE SET, OKAY, it's annoying." I doubt it will sink in, but I've glared at enough shitty concert-goers to do my best at trying.
Anyway, my grade 9s asked what show I'd gone to see. I told them. Blank stares, except for one girl at the back whose eyes exploded in brightness: "Are you serious?! Third Eye Blind?!"
My sarcasm metre started dinging, but the reaction was too genuine to be faked. When she started going on about how jealous she was, I deferred, and we briefly fangirled. Admittedly: I was surprised. It's rare that I'll mention an old favourite and have students actually know who it is -- most of the music I listened to as a teenager has fallen far out of vogue.
But there's something about Third Eye Blind.
On the traffic-laden drive to the show, Linds and I listened to all five of their albums in order. Have you ever done that -- listened to an entire discography chronologically in one sitting? I hadn't; it was pretty eye-opening. You start picking up on patterns you likely wouldn't otherwise -- thematic, of course, but also musical, lyrical, and ineffable. Those kinds of patterns that you know are there but can't quite articulate -- either because you don't have the vocabulary, or because it's purely magic.
Third Eye Blind, as by-the-book catchy as their bigger hits are, has some magic.
It's hard to explain why you love a specific song. Context, of course, is everything: the memories and connotations attached to songs affect our experience of them. But sometimes we come across a good album -- like something you can say is just kind of objectively on point.
Third Eye Blind's an interesting case. I'd say their first album -- 1997's self-titled intensity -- was pretty objectively fantastic. Their second (1999's Blue) is by far my favourite. But apparently their fifth and most recent album, Dopamine, is their last. And if that's true, it's brilliant.
Yeah, okay, this is influenced by my having listened to the albums all in a row. But this is a fucking mature effort. Rock bands rarely grow up. They disband, or stop caring, or keep putting out unlistenable shit. But bands that actually grow up and create something that harks back to their earlier work, while taking in the current trends of their genre and conceptually evolving? Rare. Rare, guys. Third Eye Blind has done it. And the title track of Dopamine proves this beautifully.
Third Eye Blind does two things phenomenally well: songs about love and songs about intoxication. This is shit you think you leave behind when you grow up and get into a ~comfortable rut~. Netflix and chill being the meme of the moment, I mean come the fuck on: the internet, even, is growing up. The fears of the early 20s, realized: the most intoxicated most adults get is an extra glass of wine on a Saturday night; love has been relegated to a cheerful, relaxed kiss in front of the TV.
For the record: I appreciate not being hungover on weekdays like I was when I was 22, and the chaos of infatuation is certainly less romantic than the songs say. But then you get lyrics like this, in a song about taking hard drugs: "How do I get back there / to the place where I fell asleep inside you?"
'Semi-Charmed Life' was a masterpiece of its time.
But you can't talk about breathing the sky through your nose on meth forever.
So Dopamine drops, and 'Dopamine' starts with an intro more epic than you can imagine: sweeping synths and guitars -- oh you've definitely been paying attention to the past few years of electropop, guys -- gorgeous melody -- get out of my goddamn face.
But listen to those lyrics. Those are grownup lyrics and this is a grownup, natural drug -- but there's no Netflix and chill to be found, here. Love is still dark, even when you're a grownup; drugs are still potent, even if they're from your own brain.
All animal and engine / but I always fake the part
My side of the bed / I want to push you off the ledge
Cause I can't get you to feel it / till you're out there on the edge
Particularly if you're a 90s kid: please oh please, sit for an hour and listen to this album all the way through. Preferably a few times. It's gonna hurt -- perhaps more quietly than you're used to, but with oh so much intensity.
Cause this just an extra-glass-of-wine theory --- but I think they rewrote the songs from their first album as adults.
The show was seated. Linds and I were up on the balcony, dancing and hands in the air and watching everyone around us sit and sip their beer. As the second song finished, Linds turned to me and said, "Downstairs?"
Of course.
As we walked down red carpet stairs, to a red carpet aisle, past people standing gingerly in front of their seats, Third Eye Blind was blasting that epic intro to 'Dopamine' with all of themselves.
Imagine: one of your favourites dancing her way down the aisle in front of you, your hands in the air, lights flashing from the stage, that intro playing as you slide into the front row.
It was a movie. It was magic.
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