"Drive" is about running on empty. A late-night lull and a sunken-eyed phone call, it is a rue for the rued. You hear it when the only consolation is the line of coke and soda lights; when all you have is yourself -- and love is dead, but the memory remains. The music is pure fate, a static sigh that can break like a catch in your throat. (The feat of Greg Hawkes' synth -- his Fairlight "floes" -- is that the chrome sheen is offset by the warmth of the melody.) And the lyrics address a beautiful loser with sharp doubt, one that the vocal treats with pathos and regret. It is a great song.

2003-04-05 - Jack Cormack