Regina Spektor’s “Far” Snuggles Up Close to Me

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This is the best birthday present I’ve gotten all year.

regina spektor, far, album coverRegina Spektor’s third proper album, Far, is like that cynical older cousin who you love to sit next to at family functions. Totally funny, mostly good-natured, and both angry and delicious — angrilicious? — like the kind of person who says all the things you want to say but don’t.

And — uh — says them all in cute, random metaphors and rhyming couplets and sweet, sweet melodies.

After the meandering intro of “The Calculation” — a good, mid-tempo, semi-funked-out song about relationships, technology, and emotional indifference — we get a virtual onslaught of Regina with the instant hookiness, smileyness, and spine-tingling anticipation of the piano chords that lead into “Eet.”

The song might be named for its homonym, or it might be the way Spektor writes down her own whimsical non-word singing on paper. Then, when the drums come in — “You spend half of your life/trying to fall behind/using your headphones to drown out your mind” — the song becomes simultaneously triumphant and snarky. And it’s especially victorious when you consider it’s a song about hipster kids who are so preoccupied with looking cool that they forget how to dance. (That’s what I think it’s about, anyway.) Really, it’s a self-defeating argument — by the time you’re done analyzing, you’re hopping up and down in your desk chair, anyway.

A few weeks ago, we brought you from Regina Spektor’s new video, “Laughing With.” It’s been seized upon and passed around a fair bit among the Jewish bloggy folks, but I don’t think any of us have really given as much credence to the lyrics as they deserve.

No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet

So freakin’ true. And yet, if this wasn’t being sung within the context of an MTV video with cool effects and a Harry Potter-like Cloak of Invisibility, we’d probably freak out and call the writer a zealot or a fundamentalist.