In a way, ‘a good thing’ can become a monster; our inability to attain it can strike fear into our hearts, our failure to feel worthy of it can torment us, and our disappointment caused by its failure to satisfy us can be a tragic monstrosity. A monster is defined in the dictionary as an ‘imaginary creature’. What Cullum seems to be pursuing in this song is an imaginary cure-all creation which haunts him throughout the song, a sad-but-true metaphor for striving after creative euphoria.
For all his talent, experience and fans, even a creative genius like Cullum is not in control of his final output. Jamie makes an inspired connection between the act of creativity and gambling & treasure hunting – fundamentally unsound and risky endeavours. Yet this insecurity in his art leads us towards what is really going on, and what he is really seeking – he wants connection, he wants to feel significant, he wants to be a saviour. It’s not really about song writing – it never was. In fact, things are rarely ever about what they seem to be. This latter revelation continually perplexes mankind and provides therapists with a predictably stable income.
Jamie’s voice dominates the song’s entire proceedings, which works because the message of the song is revealed through the lyrics and the marvellous phrasing Jamie employs. And who can blame him when he can craft beautifully shaped phrases like ‘all the chips are falling where they oughta be’ or when he paints entire vistas of emotions through the various ways he sings ‘it feels’.
It’s easy not to notice all the little things that this song does right, but I implore you to listen deeply. As you do, you begin to appreciate the song’s perfect tempo, the timing of the rhodes accompaniment, the way all the instruments have a hazy undertone that compliments Cullum’s own raspy voice. T’is the sweetest monster i’ve ever heard.
poetic reverb 