How naïve. The city’s huge, Patrick Wolf, you think singing a song will stop it from getting what it wants? It will bear upon your love with full force until all that’s left is dust. If the city wants to destroy your love, it’s going to do it; neither a song nor anything else has a hope of stopping it.
However, as that infectious chord progression picks up and that tinkling piano comes in and those toms that I can’t help but air drum to lay in and that chopped and screwed vocal line comes in and somehow works despite all that I just described, I might make an appeal to the city that Wolf could actually do it. He could actually fend off the pressure from the city with the power of pop, an accolade reserved for the likes of luminaries like Bowie and Mercury. I doubt Patrick Wolf fends off the city with this showstopper, but dammit if I won’t root for David over Goliath every time. Perhaps the goals could be set a tad lower. Perhaps Williamsburg can’t destroy your love.
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