The ultimate indie anthem. This is the most appropriate definition for this track. When MGMT wrote and composed this song during their college days, they certainly didn't imagine they could reach such levels of success and become the biggest synth-pop band of the 2000s. Probably, if you are over forty, this song will likely not have the same effect on you as it does on teenagers. They are not Depeche Mode. They are not Pulp. They can't create concept albums in the style of Kid A. But that's not their goal.
"Time To Pretend" represents a desire to escape reality, a time to pretend and create a new life through mental journeys. Marrying famous models, abusing drugs, trips to Paris, driving luxury cars, missing family, divorcing, and even dying in your own vomit. All these ingredients, which make up the lyrics, are accompanied by an 80s-style base that leaves fertile ground for a ruthless and wonderfully annoying optigan riff, capable of creating a surreal and magical environment. The attack with this instrument is sudden and powerful, but after a few seconds, its redundant and graceful sound is already in our heads, along with the repetitive but never banal melody, accompanied as already mentioned by brilliant and impactful lyrics, without the need for particular quotes or ultra-fast singing in the manner of Arctic Monkeys. When in the last verse it deals with an atrocious end of one's existence, triumphant-like choirs (yeah, yeah, yeah) join in, accompanied by the usual synthesizer, as if to indicate that there are no regrets in meeting one's destiny by living life to the fullest.
First listen: interest. Second: appreciation. Third: addiction. The perfect song that indie-pop had yet to find. The urge to overdo it in the prime of life (I'm in the prime of my life) is all encapsulated in these four minutes. Well done MGMT.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Time to Pretend (04:22)
I'm Feelin rough I'm Feelin raw I'm in the prime of my life.
Let's make some music make some money find some models for wives.
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin and fuck with the stars.
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars.
This is our decision to live fast and die young.
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun.
Yeah it's overwhelming, but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?
Forget about our mothers and our friends.
We were fated to pretend.
I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms.
I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world.
I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home.
Yeah I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone.
But there is really nothing, nothing we can do.
Love must be forgotten. Life can always start up anew.
The models will have children, we'll get a divorce,
we'll find some more models, Everything must run its course.
We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end.
We were fated to pretend.
yeah yeah yeah
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