The temperature is above 40 degrees in March, the sun is shining, and absolutely no song fits the mood better than the smooth, breezy melodies of “Cruisin’” by Huey Lewis and the News feat. Gwyneth Paltrow.
That is, until musical sister trio HAIM’s “Gasoline” entered the scene last month and presented itself as a serious contender for your spring soundtrack. Fifth on their 18-track album, “Women in Music Pt III,” released Feb. 19, 2021, “Gasoline” comes in two equally-pleasant varieties: one featuring Taylor Swift, and one without.
“Gasoline/Hit it please/I wanna get off/But you’re such a tease/Throw the keys/Back to me/Go on and kick off your boots/In the passenger seat,” the sisters sing.
If “drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo hit the global zeitgeist just right in January, with its fragile description of 16-year-old life at a time when so much of the world was engulfed in nostalgia at the end of wild year, “Gasoline” hits it afresh. Day is breaking and we’re emerging seasoned but not jaded, going for a warm Saturday afternoon drive and ready to pick up the pace again.
“You say you wanna go slow/But I wanna go fast” — the lyrics aren’t deep in this willfully-indulgent vibe track. The narrator and her beau are taking a drive (surely it’s a convertible; you can almost taste the blowing wind and see the sunlight flickering through tall oak trees). Like the fickle March weather, he’s a tease, but the tone suggests headway is being made and the warmth will eventually stay.
It’s not just “Gasoline”; the whole album is a meditation on seasons, taking on heavy issues like isolation and emptiness and putting them to light, gentle tunes. The sisters seem to be seeking belonging in this particular phase, such as in “Los Angeles,” the first track on the album. The opening notes are distinctly jazz.
“New York is cold/I tried the winter there once/Nope./Clearly the greatest city in the world/But it was not my home/I felt more alone.”
There’s a hint the narrator’s troubles are not of her own making. Some lines seem to allude to the economic travesty wreaked on major American cities in the past year.
“It’s killin’ me/Hometown of mine/Just got back from the boulevard, can’t stop cryin’/The guy at the corner shop gave me a line and a smile/I know he was tryin’/But a lie is a lie.”
“Don’t Wanna” and “The Steps” are the obvious radio tracks. The latter was released in 2020, with five other songs that would also find a place on “Women In Music Pt III,” as an EP under the title “I Know Alone.” Moodier and more techno, “I Know Alone” was the most popular song on the initial release. None were hits, but the EP’s subtle flavor, having aged another handful of months, comes out strong and sweet in the full album.
One example is “Leaning On You,” which harps back to a key theme in “I Know Alone,” namely that the narrator is better at being alone than in a relationship (“I know alone like no one else does”). In her search for belonging, she seems to have found a cornerstone in the combination of a stable companion and a traditional Spanish guitar.
“It takes all that I got/Not to [mess] this up/So won’t you let me know/If I’m not alone/And I like what we got/But I’m scared of what it’s not/So won’t you let me know/If I’m not alone/Leaning on you.”
Not every song is great; many make for pleasant studying background music, like “Up From A Dream” and “Another Try,” but probably won’t be the first you select when you pop in your headphones on the way to class.
At the end of “I Feel Down,” — a clear riff on 2020 stereotypes, with lines like “I’ve been watching too much TV/Staring up at the ceiling” and “I’m wakin’ up at night/Tik Tok killing time,” the jazzy saxophone motif returns, this time ready to serenade you through an evening stroll.
“The love of my life/Sleepin’ by my side/But I’m still down/But I think that we need to come together/I think that we need to come together (you know I’m down).”
For some artists, the bonus tracks are better than many of the album’s key songs. This is true for HAIM’s “Hallelujah,” in which the narrator sings about “two angels in disguise.” A meditation on sisterhood, the threefold cord which comprises the band, it’s warm and thankful.
“Old fears, helped to ease them in my mind/New tears say that they will dry in time/Why me? How’d I get this hallelujah?/Hallelujah.”
The last track, “Summer Girl,” picks up the crooning saxophone right where “Los Angeles,” left off, giving the listener a sensation like sliding into a ritzy New York hotel to beat the June afternoon heat.
Somewhere between jazz, elevator, and street music, it strikes a chord.
“I’m your summer girl…”