The Postmarks: Goodbye
[purchase]
Nothing complex here, and that’s precisely the point. An intricate progression would infer a deep issue worth mulling over. Instead, The Postmarks bless us with a plucky, punctual melody that says this is it, don’t wreck yourself thinking about it.
Goodbye, I’ll be gone when you open your eyes, Tim Yehezkely begins singing as the first notes on 2007’s eponymous album are played. I’m skipping town like a stone thrown across the water.
Echoing the jangly, indie, retro-pop sounds of overseas counterparts like The Clientele and Belle and Sebastian, The Postmarks weave an ultra-catchy song that could only sound more French influenced if it contained an accordion. Only half a dozen notes ring out from the trumpet, a call-and-response line repeated a number of times throughout the song, and the vibraphone, strings, guitar, and bass all play more in sync than in juxtaposition, giving the tune a liquid, calm feel.
The lyrics match these instrumental parts just as flawlessly, as Yehezkely explaining simply that she is moving on, but offering no hints (nor suggestion of relevance) as to any reasons. The lyrics here are so nondescript regarding the characters within that the listener is left unaware even of their relationships. Are they lovers? roommates? friends? Does it matter? No, because this song isn’t about the past; it’s about the future and moving on. For whatever reason, the narrator has already decided to move on, and that’s where the song begins. Her only message is a reminder to her subject: you need to move on too; don’t stress out over this relationship. Don’t leave a key underneath the mat for me, ‘cause I won’t be coming back around here.
Goodbye, I’ll be gone when you open your eyes, Tim Yehezkely begins singing as the first notes on 2007’s eponymous album are played. I’m skipping town like a stone thrown across the water.
Echoing the jangly, indie, retro-pop sounds of overseas counterparts like The Clientele and Belle and Sebastian, The Postmarks weave an ultra-catchy song that could only sound more French influenced if it contained an accordion. Only half a dozen notes ring out from the trumpet, a call-and-response line repeated a number of times throughout the song, and the vibraphone, strings, guitar, and bass all play more in sync than in juxtaposition, giving the tune a liquid, calm feel.
The lyrics match these instrumental parts just as flawlessly, as Yehezkely explaining simply that she is moving on, but offering no hints (nor suggestion of relevance) as to any reasons. The lyrics here are so nondescript regarding the characters within that the listener is left unaware even of their relationships. Are they lovers? roommates? friends? Does it matter? No, because this song isn’t about the past; it’s about the future and moving on. For whatever reason, the narrator has already decided to move on, and that’s where the song begins. Her only message is a reminder to her subject: you need to move on too; don’t stress out over this relationship. Don’t leave a key underneath the mat for me, ‘cause I won’t be coming back around here.
