The Listomania I make the lists, you shoot them down. Quid Pro Quo.

132. The Polyphonic Spree – Light & Day/Reach for the Sun

This decade has been a total bummer. Think about it. We’ve been a dissatisfied country at war for the longest period in a generation. We’ve had to worry about anthrax, a swine flu, AND a recession. We’re told everyday, by 60 Minutes, your local (folding) newspaper, and grandma that we’re shut off from the world at large, increasingly sequenced off and sequestered from our families and friends. And Jon and Kate aren’t together anymore.

In times like these, how could I not root for balls to the wall, let the sun shine affirmation? The Polyphonic Spree built a cathedral from the ruins of a band whose founding member died tragically. Only from a base like that could arise such a genuinely well-adjusted group of creepy cult members. Yes, I called them genuine. I hear this song, and I don’t really buy the indie affectations and the alt.Texas affiliations that lead singer Tim DeLaughter brings with him. I see them as an outfit trying to sincerely brighten my day, personally, through music, and hand claps, and stately French horn.

So the band has more gimmicks than Carrot Top. So what? They need the constantly-bulging 27-member supporting cast to create the sounds in DeLaughter’s head. They dress like a cult, which I really can’t explain away, but I don’t give a shit – give me a robe, let me drink the Kool-aid. If I could have as much fun as these guys are always having making others’ days better, why not?

The song is pretty self-explanatory. Bhangra drums and dripping synths ease into a flute, yes, a flute, when DeLaughter and some of his “family” chime in with a simple melody, almost a nursery rhyme. And you only get one minute, 60 measly seconds to prepare yourself for the Love Onslaught. This is the Beaches of Normandy of intentionally sappy music, the last stand, the brick wall. If you’re going to do it, go big or go home, and I would classify horns, woodwinds, a chorus, and MULTIPLE HARPS as nothing but.