The thought of a long a fruitful life is one that we think we're all owed. It's the selfishness in us, but it's more the fear of knowing that if we're not in this thing for a spell, if the duration gets shortened too much and we're just gone, what then? It's that unthinkable nothingness, or the next chapter sort of thought that catches you off-guard and you're not sure what to do with the idea. You're fairly sure that when you go, you want to go like a flash of lightning, like a fraction of a flash of lightning - somehow not even seeing the flash and definitely not hearing the cascading thunder after it, the obvious signifying of something that already came and went. We're pretty sure that we just want to be gone, without any hanging on, without any fight. We're not really sure what's so noble about fighting death if it's only fighting old age and a distressed and floundering body and its systems.
Brooklyn, by way of Florida group, Blonds take us through this line of thinking with its song, "Amen," a piece of music that sounds like a windswept dimension of oceanic tables and ancient hanging trees. It just so happens to also bring us to the thought of growing older and all of the changes that are going to set in subtly. The song begins with old Motown music playing in the background and bodies not knowing how they're going to react to it, but they have confidence that they'll come up with something. The bodies in question will at least do something and they'll work without busting to pieces.
Toward the end of the song, Cari Rae and Jordy Asher, are hearing Mozart and the mood is considerably more dulled. It's at this time that we realize that these are the last legs that these people are standing on. They realize it too, as Rae and Asher sing, "Our bodies just won't move the same." The sad part of it all is that they're going to have to keep living with these faulty and failing bodies for as long as the bodies want to keep going, as sad as that is. The song swims its way out, with mellowing lights and soft sighs.