2003-11-07 📌 My review: The Crimea - Baby Boom (single)
www.inaudible.co.ukTrack listing:
1. Baby Boom
2. The Great Unknown
Scroll down for lyrics!
In typical Boobytrap Records style, only one b-side on this single. It should apparently be cheaper for it, so shop around! With that said, I think it'll be definitely worth your while if intelligent lyrics don't leave you cold... so yeah, that's a challenge, bub.
The lines of Baby Boom are fairly littered with stereotypes of masculinity, with a particularly rich source of double meanings in "getting slaughtered". Whether the voice of this song prides itself on them or is reflexively ironic, we know it has been rebuffed. The last few lines hint that this song shares the preoccupations of "Closet Heroine" and "Lady Killer" (tracks by the Crocketts about blundering abuse of power and unsatisfactory relationships) but it manages to be extremely sing-along in spite of this... so, whilst as a first single it might have thrown listeners in at the deep end, in the context of the last two releases (particularly those b-sides), it works well. Revamped since the demo days when it was called "Fred Flintstone", this mix offers a considerably clearer listen, though part of me still prefers the slightly slower version.
The Great Unknown is more raw than anything else we've heard on a Crimea release, which is not to its detriment. There's more passion, resentment and resolve than simple resignation in the chorus of "still waiting to be collected from lost property," well-matched and mellowed by a haunting set of instruments behind the words. This is a track which those with an appreciation for a slower rhythm will enjoy.
All in all, this single is rather dark in tone beneath all of its carefully crafted melody. First time listeners might want to check out either of the previous discs before this, but I have no doubt they'll be back and keen for the full album in '04.
BABY BOOM
We're just a bunch of buffalo... getting slaughtered...
We're all Red Indians... we love fire water...
We're just a bunch of buffalo... getting slaughtered...
We're all Red Indians... we love fire water...
CHORUS:
You can call me Fred Flintstone...
Tarzan, King of the Jungle...
I guess I was a little prehistoric pumpkin...
At your place this afternoon...
I guess you just weren't interested...
In getting drunk and trying to start a baby boom...
We're just a bunch of buffalo... getting slaughtered...
We're all Red Indians... we love fire water...
CHORUS
Whoa... oh-oh-oh!
CHORUS
No-one said it's gonna be easy, darling...
It won't get better...
No-one said it's gonna be fun...
It won't get better...
THE GREAT UNKNOWN
Only when they know...
You are impossible...
More so than the arrival of a little fat greek...
With bow and arrow...
Only then can this old dog get up and go...
To where there's no no no no no...
Tomorrow...
Just the answer, no...
Just the answer, no...
Everything's so big... collosal...
Everything's so big big big... collosal...
Don't expect I'll reach... thirty...
If this is life on Earth...
Hasta la vista...
CHORUS:
Still waiting to be collected from lost property...
Forsaken, and stripped of dignity...
Attractive head seeks guillotine...
Ready now to face the great unknown...
Happens to the best of us I know...
Happens to the best of us I know...
Everybody loves... the crisis...
Everybody loves themselves... the crisis...
The meaning of the word... is no joke...
Left my suicide note... by the TV remote...
CHORUS
All lyrics are, naturally, copyright the band.
As usual, thanks to Christopher for help working them out!
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