Review Summary: #100 in Rembrandt's Top 100 Albums of the Decade
In June 2010 I barricaded myself inside an apartment and underwent the ultimate test of manhood - listening to and ranking every single album released in the previous ten years. After ensuring the lists authenticity by painstakingly downloading hundreds of thousands of records in FLAC, I rated each one on a scale of 1-5 and compiled a Top 100 list which I then pinned to my refrigerator and the internet itself.
It’s difficult to overemphasize the impact that
Songs About Jane had on post-9/11 pop culture. Eight years after the fact, it almost feels like it never happened, but for a generation of young people it provided the soundtrack to the summer of 2002 and coated our tear-stained memories of that fateful day with a sheen of high-gloss production value and catchy pop hooks. In short, we danced the pain away, and why not? We had spent too many barren days living in the fatty, cellulite scarred skin folds of 21st century America.
No more, goddamit. It was time to party, and we did, sometimes with a different girl every month. Al Qaeda had kicked sand in our faces and we responded by listening to Maroon 5’s well crafted, radio friendly pop rock in our droves. It was a special time, and I knew that in a few years I would reminisce fondly upon these days while writing a Top 100 Albums of the Decade feature on Sputnikmusic.com.
This album's concept has always been virtually impenetrable. Who is Jane? What is her story? The listener is given scant information – just some highly stylized album artwork and a generic name. She is, for all intents and purposes, completely anonymous. Only one thing is certain: Maroon 5 frontman Adam Levine has spiked her drink and f
ucked the sh
it out of her. These songs are erotic. I’m talking skin on skin, hand on crotch, razor on neckbeard aural devastation. When Levine sings of trying to
‘keep her coming every night’ during the toe-tapping tale of implied date-rape “This Love”, you can tell he really means it. This guy is dedicated to the noble cause of seducing women and providing you with the life-affirming music required to soundtrack your conquests. Just check out the ultra suave piano pop of “Sunday Morning” for more proof. But wait, you’re probably thinking “These song titles make this sound like a goddamn pop record for fags, where’s the rock?” Don’t fret, my friend, because Maroon 5 has got your back. For some of that edgy, head bobbing funk rock you so desperately crave, I point you in the direction of album opener “Harder to Breathe”. Tough enough for ya? I rest my case.
So go on: pop your collar, turn down the lights, pour yourself and that special girl a glass of wine and bask in audio bliss. Post-9/11 spooning never felt so timeless.
