Monday, April 18, 2005

"Angel Dressed in Black"

"Sitting on a sofa/Sucking a bowl of crack/Thinking to myself about my/Angel dressed in black." Paranoia, hallucination, inertia, fear, the hint of self-harm, this song is holding a kitchen knife behind its back. There's a cheery, drug-fuelled dismissal of all the possible Bad Things that could have happened to her while she has been away: "She might have been arrested/She might have been attacked/She might be lying dead somewhere/My angel dressed in black" and then the suggestion that she may well be just a hallucination anyway. Listening to this is like having a rambling, confused conversation with someone who's picking the yellow M&Ms out of a large bowl, scratching their arms uncontrollably and muttering to themselves about nothing in particular.

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