Is there a song that takes you right back to where you were the first time you heard it? You were introduced to it — maybe it made an impression, maybe it didn’t — then you forgot about it for a while, and then when you heard it again, you were suddenly transported to the time and place of the first listen? “Darlin’” by Houndmouth is that song for me.
It was the summer before my senior year of high school, and I was spending about a month in Boston between various summer programs. Neither of the dorms I stayed in had air conditioning (shock! surprise!) and a heat wave was practically melting the city by the time the second program rolled around. In fact, those in charge of the program advised that anyone who could leave Boston for the weekend should for the sake of their health. My cousin and her then-fiancé, now-husband were living in Massachusetts at the time and graciously let me crash with them for the weekend. Despite the circumstances that brought me there, I had an absolute blast — I got to spend some quality time with their dog, and they introduced me to Netflix’s surprisingly riveting glassblowing competition, Blown Away. But one of my favorite memories from that weekend was when we were sitting down to dinner one night and listening to music. Suddenly, this spellbinding riff started playing over the speaker, and I had to know the name of this song. I had heard Houndmouth’s “Sedona” before, so it wasn’t a complete surprise to learn the artist, but “Darlin’” was new to me. Ever since, it’s been my favorite Houndmouth track. I might lose track of it every once in a while, but each time I hear it again, I get sucked right back in. This week’s Test Spin is dedicated to the magical 2015 album this magical song is a part of, Little Neon Limelight.
In addition to being the song that introduced me to them, “Sedona” is probably Houndmouth’s most well-known song. Guitarist Matt Myers sings lead and details Sedona, Arizona’s lost history as a film location — a history that dropped off with the decreased popularity of Westerns and the development of the city. “Hey little Hollywood / You’re gone but you’re not forgot / You got the cash but your credit’s no good / You flipped the script and you shot the plot / And I remember, I remember when the neon used to burn so bright and pink / Saturday night kind of pink,” Myers sings during the chorus. Former keyboardist Katie Toupin takes the lead on the folksy, powerful “Otis” as she describes the push and pull between the narrator and the titular character. Sonically, “Otis” is certainly softer than “Sedona,” but they share the Houndmouth propensity for pithy, forceful lyrics. Likewise, “15 Years” sees its narrator (vocalized by former bassist Zak Appleby) beg his partner to wait for him as he spends time in prison. I couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of Elvis-meets-alt-rock sort of thing happening here. It’s fast-paced and indecisive, yet somehow still makes a statement all its own.
“For No One” is an abrupt change, as it dramatically slows down the record, but it is not an unwelcome one. The thoughtful lyrics take center stage here, and Myers particularly brings them to life in the Ernest Hemingway-laden chorus: “Old man and the sea / Doin’ what you were born to / Shrapnel in my knee / I can’t walk and I don’t care to,” he croons over stripped-down instrumentals. “Black Gold” is a story about a family who gained their wealth through oil. Regardless of the compelling lyrics, Myers and Appleby steal the show on the guitar and bass, respectively; it’s really impossible not to get distracted by it. On “Honey Slider,” the narrator laments his partner’s treatment of him while admitting his own fallibility. Myers’ guitar beckons “sweet Therese” even though he warns her: “I’ll leave you out to dry, I’ll leave you out on the wire.” In spite of the story being told, there’s something comforting about this song; it really just sounds like coming home at the end of a long day.
The members of Houndmouth split lead vocal responsibilities on “My Cousin Greg,” Little Neon Limelight’s most fun track. Supposedly, this song was written in the basement of Myers’ cousin Greg. In “Gasoline,” the band takes on an Americana sound as Toupin describes a girl who burns bright and fast: “Gasoline / It don’t burn as fast as me,” Toupin reflects. Appleby sings lead vocals on “By God,” and his voice is an absolute sucker punch. He ponders the constant grind and complex family relationships as he sings, “Working for my nickel down at the armory / Trying to support my dime lifestyle / The boss man telling me I better get it done / What a way to treat the boy who’s your only son.” It is followed by “Say It,” a relatively simple track that advises the listener to lower their expectations. “Darlin’” concludes the record, and it’s a goodbye and a warning all in one: “You’re looking frozen and weathered, my dear / And your lips and your cheeks are turnin’ blue / It’s cold, it’s dark, it’s deep, and it’s wet / But you ain’t gonna make it if you don’t let someone in,” Myers says. And my warning to you: if you really think about it, you might have to stare into space for a few minutes after listening to this one. I certainly did this time around.
The lyrics of “Darlin’” may be devastating, but my associations with the song are anything but that. Last fall, I talked about how my brain sometimes conjures up a song that I think is fitting for a specific life moment. But sometimes, the connections can have nothing to do with the meaning of the song, and everything to do with what was happening to you when you listened to it. Matt Myers might be calling someone a stone cold bitch in “Darlin’,” but to me, that song is time with my family, cuddles with a cute pitbull named Dallas and refuge from a too-hot summer in Boston.
Test Spins is a fortnightly throwback column reviewing and recommending classic and underrated albums from the past. It runs every other Friday.
Sydney Levinton is a member of the Class of 2027 in the College of Arts and Sciences. She is a senior editor specializing in music and was the arts and culture editor on the 142nd and 143rd Editorial Boards. She can be reached at slevinton@cornellsun.com.
