They come from a town not unlike yours. Predictable and unremarkable. They hit a certain age and moved to the city. Most things fit. Some didn’t. We get that, Tokyo Police Club.
We like listening to this when we hit the Wine Rack in the summer. In the car on the road to somewhere new. But it’s when we go home and see the snow falling that we yearn for this sound. It’s being in those familiar spaces. Feeling that ground under foot. Remembering the girls, happy and married now. The nerve we never had. The friends we’ll never talk to again.
The more uncertain the world you choose, the more clarity you pull from the places you never understood when you were in them. That’s our elephant shell. Learning too well the shortcomings of your own heart. Understanding your romance may never be pearly white. And feeling so grateful for that. Knowing that, some nights, you’ll never be a gentleman.
Tokyo Police Club’s best album has one song over three minutes. How they crystallize their many moving parts in such short bursts is an act of impressive alchemy. They aim for the heart and burrow inside. You go back to them for the science. You stay for the decimals.