Despite having a name longer than most of the Pink Floyd songs put out during the '70s and generally featuring the same amount of formless yelling, this song is most definitely ruling. Fronted by our old pal and indie rock poster boy Conor Oberst, Despaparecidos brought the rock in ways that most of the 15 year old misunderstood girls with daddy issues and black fingernails who yelled 'Conor we love you!' at EVERY SINGLE FUCKING SHOW I ever saw of his would find most disturbing.
'What's this? He's not singing about bowls of fruit and how mommy didn't love him and rebelling against his high school teachers? He doesn't love us anymore!' Get a job, hippie.
Desaparecidos was a short-lived but very loud and listenable band, and I enjoyed the hell out of the album cover, which probably cost way too much to make given how little everyone else probably enjoyed it. I like this song for two things: the guitar that is like a knife to my headpiece and the wailing, which bears a certain kind of authenticity, as if whoever wrote this might actually have spent some time around a loveless marriage or two. There's a lot of bitterness and yelling and the usual kind of 'go fuck yourself' type of awful sentiment you can't take back, but you always find a way to say when you're really pissed off at someone.
'I'm a bill you pay, I'm a contract you can't break', that's awesome shit and the whole thing should be required listening at any type of pre-marriage counseling they're always doing in churches (and which I skipped, as I have the confidence of Zeus and I never ask questions).
Check out the song here, along with video of kids riding skateboards, which is always nice to see (Get a job, hippie).